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mammgMm 


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THE   EXPLOITS   OF 
BILGE   AND   MA 


THE    EXPLOITS    OF 
BILGE   AND    MA 


BY 


PETER   CLARK   MACFARLANE 


BOSTON 

LITTLE,   BROWN,   AND   COMPANY 

1919 


I 

Copyright,  igig, 
By  Little,  Brown,  and  Company. 


All  rights  reserved 
Published,  October,  1919 


Set  up  and  electrotyped  by  J.  S.  Cushing  Co.,  Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 
Prcsswork  by  S.  J.  Parkhill  &  Co.,  Boston,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


TO   THE    RANKS   AND    RATINGS    OF   THE 

UNITED    STATES    NAVY, 

BRAVE,    COMPETENT,    KINDLY,    AND,   ABOVE 

EVERYTHING    ELSE,    LOYAL, 

THIS  VOLUME    IS    AFFECTIONATELY    DEDICATED 
BY   THE   AUTHOR 


500240 


FOREWORD 

I  have  read  with  interest  these  stories  of  the 
exploits  of  "  Bilge  "  and  "  Ma,"  two  fiction  charac- 
ters who  are  supposed  to  have  lived  and  moved  on 
one  of  the  destroyer  flotillas  under  my  command 
in  the  late  war.  The  author's  own  experience  upon 
and  around  these  craft  when  they  were  engaged  in 
hunting  the  submarine  has  acquainted  him  with  the 
atmosphere  in  which  that  work  was  done,  and  in  the 
mishaps  as  well  as  in  the  achievements  of  the  heroes 
whose  adventures  are  set  forth  in  these  pages  he 
has  portrayed  something  of  that  playful  spirit,  that 
dare-devil  courage  and  that  unfaltering  tenacity  of 
purpose  which  I  have  always  seen  to  be  character- 
istic of  the  American  fighting  man  afloat.  I  shall 
anticipate  that  the  volume  may  not  only  prove  enter- 
taining reading  to  all  who  care  for  a  yarn  of  the 
sea,  but  that  it  will  be  recognized  by  officers  and  men 
of  the  fleets  and  their  friends  as  a  tribute  to  the 
personnel  and  the  character  of  the  Navy  as  a  whole. 

Wm.  S.  Sims, 
Rear-Admiral,  U.  S.  Navy. 


CONTENTS 


Foreword    . 

I  The  Mistakes  of  Bilge 

II  Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat 

III  Kidnaping  Cupid 

IV  Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub 
V  For  Two  Orphans 

VI  London  Leave     . 


Vll 

i 

55 
103 
163 
200 
242 


THE  EXPLOITS  OF  BILGE 
AND  MA 


THE  MISTAKES  OF  BILGE 

"  Whose  idea?  "  grumbled  the  chief  boson's  mate 
suspiciously. 

"What  difference,  so  long's  it's  a  good  idea?" 
argued  the  bunting  tosser,  otherwise  the  signal  man. 
"  They've  got  four  hams ;  they've  got  six  three-foot 
loaves  of  bread;  they've  got  ten  pounds  of  butter; 
they've  got  two  gallons  of  dill  pickles;  they've  got 
a  can  of  U.  S.  corned  beef;  they've  got  a  can  of 
marmalade  and  two  of  jam;  and  the  cook  is  makin' 
pies  —  two  or  three  dozen  of  'em." 

"  Pies?     Where'd  he  get  the  makin's?" 

"  It's  easy  enough  to  figure  where  he  got  the 
makin's,  seeing  there's  cans  of  California  apricots 
and  Delaware  peaches  in  the  storeroom." 

"  To  be  issued  only  on  —  "  reflected  a  gunner's 
mate. 

"On  orders,"  admitted  the  bunting  tosser;  "but 
what's  orders  to  a  ship's  cook  when  you  get  on  the 
right  side  of  him?  And  that  bunch  is  sure  on  the 
right  side  of  one  Filipino." 

"  I  ain't  tasted  a  real  peach  pie  since  —  since  —  " 
reminisced  the  chief  boson  hungrily;  and  his  voice 

1 


2  The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

trailed  off  into  nothingness  as  he  tried  in  vain  to 
fix  the  date. 

"  There's  goin'  to  be  refreshment  too  —  liquid  re- 
freshment," sighed  Spud  Alexander,  chief  water 
tender. 

"  Ice  cream,  I  suppose,"  derided  the  boson. 

"  Bottled  refreshment,"  illumined  the  signal  man. 
"  Everybody  chipped  in  a  pound  note.  Bilge  Ken- 
nedy and  Packy  are  ashore  now  rounding  it  up." 

"  Bilge  Kennedy  ?  Is  that  clown  goin'  ?  Then  I 
don't !  "  announced  the  chief  boson  with  conviction. 
"  He'll  jazz  up  everything." 

"  You  ain't  been  invited  to  go,  Steve,  have  you  ?  " 
inquired  Spud  rather  indelicately. 

"  You  have,  I  s'pose,"  retorted  the  boson. 

"That's  what  I'm  sore  about;  I  ain't,"  admitted 
Spud. 

"  Well,  you're  not  a-goin'  to  miss  nothing  on  that 
account,"  solaced  the  jaundiced  boson;  "  for  I  tell 
you  now  that  if  Bilge  Kennedy  is  along  the  whole 
push'll  come  back  under  guard.  Bilge  is  half  crazy 
to  begin  with,  and  two  bottles  of  soda  water  will 
put  him  off  his  nut  for  a  week." 

"  They're  figuring  on  five  hundred  bottles,"  di- 
lated the  bunting  tosser,  who  appeared  to  have  the 
commissary  statistics  of  the  expedition  at  his 
tongue's  end. 

"Of  soda  water?"  inquired  the  boson  in  real 
alarm.  "  They'll  bust.  No  mere  twenty-eight 
human  bodies  can  stand  that  much  air  pressure." 

"  Grape  juice,"  explained  the  signal  man  —  every 
form  of  beverage  that  is  not  tea,  coffee,  chocolate, 
milk  or  water  being  officially  designated  as  grape 
juice  in  the  Navy  now. 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  3 

"  It'll  be  this  Irish  ale,  most  likely,"  suggested 
Spud;  "  and  the  bottles  are  little  and  mostly  froth. 
They  don't  hold  a  glass  hardly,  and  lately  these 
graspin'  landlords  has  got  to  filling  'em  half  full  of 
water.     It's  practically  a  straight  temperance  drink." 

The  chief  boson's  lips  twitched  nervously. 
"  Still,"  he  decided  virtuously  —  "  still  I  wouldn't 
go  along,  not  if  they  asked  me  to,  if  that  bat  Bilge 
Kennedy  has  anything  to  do  with  it  at  all." 

"  The  whole  thing's  a  frost,"  agreed  Spud,  "  with 
Kennedy  in  it." 

"  Packy's  another  nut,"  added  the  bunting  tosser. 

"  Five  hundred  bottles !  "  ruminated  the  chief 
boson.     "  Somebody  ought  to  know  about  that." 

"  They  are  likely  to,"  said  Spud  with  a  self-con- 
vinced air.  "  It's  nothing  less  than  inviting  inter- 
national complications  to  let  that  bunch  ashore  like 
this." 

The  chief  boson's  mouth  worked  silently.  He 
was  reflecting  on  the  alleged  five  hundred  bottles 
and  feeling  at  the  same  time  how  thick  and  parched 
was  the  fuzzy  integument  on  the  top  of  his  tongue, 
but  he  emerged  from  his  deliberations  to  declare 
finally :  "  I  wouldn't  go  out  with  that  crew  to-day, 
not  for  no  money !  " 

"  Same  here !  "  growled  an  embittered  chorus. 

Nevertheless  when,  one  hour  later,  twenty-eight 
self-selected  men  from  the  destroyer  piled  over  the 
side  and  into  the  motor  sailer,  accompanied  by  one 
self-important  Filipino  who  was  keeping  a  watchful 
eye  upon  certain  and  sundry  oddly  shaped  bales  and 
hampers,  every  one  of  the  threescore  and  ten  men  of 
her  complement  who  had  not  been  invited  lined  the 
guard  wire  —  destroyers  having  no  rail  —  to  cast 


4  The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

down  envious  longing  eyes,  and  to  indulge  in  sting- 
ing gibes  of  one  sort  and  another. 

"  Here's  a  copy  of  their  sailing  orders,"  snickered 
the  bunting  tosser,  producing  a  typewritten  mani- 
fold copy.     "  I  pinched  it  off  the  yeoman's  desk." 

A  group  of  the  envious  bent  over  the  document, 
which  read  as  follows : 

U.  S.  S.  


Secret  Sailing  Orders  No.  23 

FORCES  :  The  Self-Entertainment  Society. 

Be  under  way  on  Saturday,  11th  May,  1918,  in 
order  to  be  in  front  of  Mrs.  Murphy's,  Lynch  Quay, 
by  10  a.m.  When  two  blocks  south  of  Murphy's 
form  column.  Speed  2  knots.  Course  will  be  sig- 
naled by  escort  commander. 

This  force  will  escort  fast  Private  Yacht  to  Secret 
Rendezvous  near  cove. 

Maneuver  to  bring  Yacht  into  port  shortly  before 
lunch  time. 

After  meeting  convoy  escort  will  zigzag  ahead  of 
convoy  unless  fog  or  darkness  sets  in  and  makes  it 
impracticable. 

In  case  of  shortage  of  fuel  the  Escort  Commander 
will  signal  by  W.  T.  for  the  fuel  barge  in  charge  of 
Coxswain  Stumborg  to  come  alongside  and  re- 
plenish. 

Return  to  port  under  cover  of  darkness,  zigzag- 
ging if  necessary. 

In  case  of  breakdown  escort  will  be  furnished. 

If  there  should  be  a  submarine  attack  do  not  send 
SOS  for  patrol. 

During  the  course  of  the  day  a  select  entertain- 
ment will  be  furnished  by  the  ship's  Jazz  Band,  led 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  5 

by  Ducky  Wellman,  whose  fame  in  The  Dance  of 
the  Fairies  is  well  known.  Grape  juice  and  song; 
pickles,  sandwiches  and  other  vegetables  will  furnish 
the  menu. 

"  Chief  Yeoman  Newman,  he  got  that  up,  huh !  " 
observed  Spud  scornfully.  "  And  I  suppose  he 
figures  that's  funny." 

"  It  is  —  kind  of,  to  us  destroyer  gobs,"  admitted 
the  bunting  tosser  wistfully. 

"  Funny  or  not,  it's  Bilge  Kennedy  that'll  crab 
their  game  for  'em !  "  declared  the  chief  boson  as 
he  turned  and  went  below. 

Which  was  evidence  particular  that  the  chief 
boson  was  a  very  cantankerous  and  ill-dispositioned 
person,  because  as  a  matter  of  simple  justice  it  must 
be  stated  at  once  that  Bilge  Kennedy  was  not  the 
desperate  and  unreliable  party  that  the  chief  boson 
had  described.  On  the  contrary,  Bilge  was  a  chief 
machinist's  mate,  which  fact  of  itself  attested  a  cer- 
tain stability  of  character.  In  a  personal  way  Bilge 
rated  a  raft  of  red  hair,  huge  splotches  of  freckles, 
a  blue  and  guileless  eye,  and  a  full-toothed  smile 
calculated  to  disarm  all  but  the  most  venomous  of 
critics.  It  is  safe  also  to  add  that  Bilge  was  not 
the  name  wherewith  his  mother  had  him  fondly 
christened  in  infancy,  just  as  it  is  also  safe  to  affirm 
that  with  what  name  or  initials  he  had  been  at  that 
time  endowed  no  one  on  the  ship  could  have  told 
save  only  the  chief  yeoman,  already  referred  to, 
who  handled  the  muster  rolls. 

Bilge's  outstanding  characteristic  was  an  amiable 
disposition  to  assume  guardianship  over  any  com- 
pany in  which  he  found  himself  cast,  and  one  result 


6  The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

of  the  manner  in  which  certain  elements  had  been 
compounded  in  his  nature  was  that  a  certain  few 
always  accepted  such  guardianship  gratefully,  while 
a  certain  much  larger  number  inevitably  rejected  it 
scornfully.  The  Self-Entertainment  Society,  but 
last  night  organized,  consisted  of  those  persons  on 
board  the  ship  who  accepted  Bilge,  and  their  loyalty 
to  him  was  as  pronounced  as  the  antipathy  of  those 
who  rejected  him. 

Bilge  as  a  leader  was  gifted  with  a  certain  fertility 
of  resource  and  innocently  obsessed  by  the  notion 
that  he  was  clever.  On  this  day  of  days  the  usual 
crisis  rose  and  came  to  a  head  early,  with  Bilge 
functioning  promptly;  and  if  the  strategy  he  re- 
sorted to  produced  after-complications  more  grave 
than  the  situation  they  were  devised  to  escape,  it 
was  doubtless  Bilge  whose  mental  sufferings  were 
keenest  in  consequence,  though  the  physical  suffer- 
ings and  the  crown  of  glory  alike  devolved  upon  a 
boson's  mate  of  the  widely  advertised  name  of  Ford. 
Ford  had  enlisted  from  the  pronouncedly  male  state 
of  Texas,  but  because  of  the  meek  expression  of  his 
features  and  some  fancied  maternal  note  in  his  char- 
acter he  staggered  under  the  female  sobriquet  of 
Ma.  His  mates,  when  they  remembered  it,  tried  to 
be  consistent  by  referring  to  Ma  with  the  appro- 
priate feminine  pronouns  as  "she"  or  "her";  but 
a  good  deal  of  the  time  they  forgot,  which  was  easy, 
because  Ma  had  some  distinctively  masculine  traits. 

The  picnic  party  had  executed  the  first  half  of 
its  sailing  orders  and  unloaded  itself  and  its  com- 
missary supplies  upon  a  pebbly  beach  in  the  edge  of 
a  tiny  cove  under  the  lee  of  a  pine-clad  hill,  when 
the  crisis  already  hinted  at  approached  in  the  form 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  7 

of  a  stubby  oranglike  figure,  carrying  a  stout  black- 
thorn and  wearing  a  stiff  black  beard  that  was  like 
a  blacking  brush  bent  under  his  chin,  the  rest  of  his 
bony  face  being  smoothly  shaven. 

"  Ye'll  be  getting  aff  the  strand  as  fast  as  ever 
ye  can!  "  barked  a  voice  that  was  brash  and  un- 
pleasant. 

An  instant  solemnity  of  silence  seized  upon  the 
flock  of  skylarking  young  men  in  blue  uniforms  and 
flat-topped  navy  hats.  They  looked  up  from  almost 
as  many  different  occupations  and  diversions  as  there 
were  men,  and  asked  sharply,  not  liking  the  tone : 

"What's  that?" 

"  I  say  ye'll  be  getting  aff  the  strand !  "  barked  the 
gloomy  interloper,  planting  both  heels  aggressively. 

"Off  the  strand?" 

"  He  means  the  beach !  " 

"His  Lordship  allows  no  picnic  parties." 

"His  Lordship?" 

"  Lord  Lallyskallen." 

"Does  his  Ludship  own  the  beach?"  inquired 
Seaman  Wart  Kessler  politely. 

"  He  owns  the  hill,"  deposed  the  person  with  the 
blackthorn. 

"  But  we  are  not  on  the  hill." 

"  But  ye  will  be  presently,"  was  argued  impa- 
tiently. "  'Tis  easy  enough  to  see  that  ye'll  soon 
be  all  over  the  place.  Sure  and  there's  a  man  on 
the  hill  now.  He's  drinkin'  out  of  the  spring.  He's 
fetchin'  water  from  the  spring."  These  specifica- 
tions, allegations  and  accusations  followed  each 
other  excitedly. 

"  Will  it  hurt  the  spring  to  bring  water  from  it?  " 
inquired  Willie  Lewis  blandly. 


8  The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  Ye  have  no  right  —  " 

"  A  spring  is  to  bring  water  from,  isn't  it?  "  in- 
quired several  tormenting  young  men  at  once,  as 
about  this  time  the  entire  group,  scenting  diversion 
in  this  interruption  of  their  innocent  hilarities,  sur- 
rounded the  newcomer  suddenly,  encompassing  and 
all  but  smothering  him  in  the  crowd  embrace. 

"  Where'd  you  get  the  whiskers,  Mike  ? "  re- 
marked Oiler  Mclntyre,  sociably  inquisitive. 

"  Me  name  is  Patrick  O'Mahony,"  he  announced 
firmly,  "  and  I  tell  ye  ye  cannot  picnic  here.  Shove 
aff!" 

Willie  Lewis,  having  a  hand  like  an  automatic  car 
coupler,  lightly  gathered  in  the  blackthorn,  viewed 
it  for  a  moment  with  an  admiring  eye  and  passed  it 
coolly  about  for  inspection.  "  Gaze  on  that  natural 
crook,  fellows,"  he  directed,  "  and  feel  of  them 
bumps.  Couldn't  you  everlastingly  paralyze  a  guy 
with  that?  If  you'd  a  had  that  with  you  in  Cork 
that  night,  Packy,  the  course  of  history  might  have 
run  different." 

Patrick,  meanwhile,  was  nonplused.  His  heart 
had  grown  faint  at  the  mere  feel  of  this  young 
sailor's  grip,  and  he  knew  that  he  had  been  coolly 
disarmed,  but  by  a  man  with  a  smiling  eye.  He  per- 
ceived that  these  good-natured  young  animals  meant 
him  no  harm  beyond  disobedience  to  his  mandate; 
yet  disobedience  was  treason.  Patrick's  cheek 
flamed. 

"  His  Lordship  —  "  he  sputtered,  and  floundered 
for  a  word. 

This  was  Bilge's  moment  —  one  of  those  for 
which  he  was  born  into  the  world. 

"  Ever  taste  grape  juice  ?  "  he  inquired  diplomat- 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  9 

ically,  shouldering  off  the  bunch  and  confronting 
Patrick  squarely. 

Patrick  estimated  Bilge  with  suspicious,  half- 
recognizant  eye,  as  if  he  thought  this  red-haired, 
freckled,  large-toothed  person  might  have  escaped 
from  the  same  zoo  as  himself.  In  this  moment 
Bilge  swept  from  under  a  newspaper  in  a  basket  a 
small  black  bottle  about  the  size  and  shape  of  a 
ketchup  bottle  at  home,  but  as  to  color  black  as  the 
growth  on  Patrick's  chin.  With  his  strong  young 
teeth  the  sailor  nipped  the  cover  off  and  proffered  it. 

Patrick  contemplated  the  bubbling  froth  for  the 
quarter  of  a  second  that  duty  still  stood  bright  and 
shining  before  his  eye,  then  weakly  surrendered. 
He  took  one  experimental  sip,  held  off  the  bottle  and 
gazed  at  it  meditatively,  with  one  eye  closed  tight 
and  the  other  unusually  large  and  thoughtful. 

"  It  tastes  like  Irish  ale,"  he  decided. 

"  Grape  juice,"  insisted  Bilge. 

Pat  smacked  his  lips  and  lifted  the  bottle  again, 
this  time  with  an  air  of  determination,  to  an  angle 
of  sixty-five  degrees  while  his  occiput  sank  to  the 
thick  folds  at  the  back  of  his  neck.  From  some- 
where throatward  or  bottleward  proceeded  a  gur- 
gling sound. 

"  I  didn't  know  anything  could  run  out  of  a  bottle 
that  fast,"  remarked  Willie  Lewis,  awestruck. 

Patrick  took  down  the  bottle  at  length  and  con- 
templated it  with  an  expression  of  distress. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  it?  "  inquired  Bilge. 

"  It's  empty,"  accused  Patrick. 

Bilge  smiled  comprehendingly,  and  swept  up  from 
under  the  paper  in  the  basket  another  bottle  of  the 
same  size  and  appearance,  except  that  this  one  bore 


10         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

a  label.  Patrick  reached  for  it  eagerly,  but  paused 
to  contemplate  the  label,  again  with  that  one-eyed 
glance  which  in  his  habit  appeared  to  be  necessary 
to  mental  concentration  —  contemplated  it  and 
smiled,  as  if  he  had  detected  an  amiable  subterfuge. 

"  Tis  brewed  in  Cork,"  he  chuckled. 

"  The  Navy  has  it  made  in  Cork,"  assured  Bilge 
solemnly,  "  and  puts  the  label  on  it  to  remind  the 
boys  of  the  good  old  times  when  they  was  drinking 
Irish  ale  instead  of  grape  juice." 

Patrick  put  the  bottle  to  his  lips  and  went  through 
the  head-tipping  process  again. 

"  The  head  of  your  Navy  must  be  a  gr-r-reat 
man,"  he  decided  with  a  smack  as  he  lowered  the 
empty  bottle. 

"  He  is,"  affirmed  Bilge  with  very  real  conviction. 
"  The  best  friend  the  enlisted  man  ever  had." 

"  I  read  he  had  a  son  in  the  Navy." 

"Hist!"  said  Bilge.  "This  is  his  son."  And 
with  sudden  inspiration,  though  not  necessarily 
divine,  he  jerked  a  thumb  toward  Wart  Kessler. 

"  Ye  don't  mean  it !  "  whispered  Pat,  turning  to 
gaze  open-mouthed  and  one-eyed  at  Wart,  who  was 
by  way  of  being  a  natural  comedian. 

Having  this  day  dragged  out  from  the  recesses 
of  his  ditty  box  a  Scotch  tammie  cap,  memento  of  a 
night  in  Glasgow,  Wart  had  now  rolled  his  trousers 
up  to  reveal  a  pair  of  bare  knees,  and  by  the  expedi- 
ent of  turning  two  sailors'  buff  storm  coats  inside 
out  and  tying  one  by  the  arms  of  it,  back  first,  about 
his  waist  to  form  kilts,  and  the  other  by  the  same 
means  about  his  neck  to  suggest  a  highland  cape, 
had  transformed  himself  into  a  caricature  of  a 
Scotch  laird,  and  with  Yeoman  Newman's  walking 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  11 

stick  now  strutted  to  and  fro  in  character,  pointing 
out  details  on  the  landscape,  asking  questions,  and 
proposing  to  buy  himself  this  likely-looking  manor 
house  or  that  one,  while  the  crowd  of  his  mates 
gawped  or  guffawed,  at  the  same  time  mincing  at- 
tendance on  him  after  a  fashion  that  to  a  person 
of  any  imagination  might  have  been  supposed  to 
suggest  the  real  relation  between  a  laird  and  his 
retinue. 

And  Patrick,  it  appeared,  was  a  person  of  real 
imagination.  He  gazed  long  and  ardently  till  the 
features  of  the  none  too  handsome  Wart  must  have 
been  impressed  upon  his  very  soul. 

"  Faith  and  ye're  right !  Tis  the  very  son  of 
the  Sicretry  himself/'  he  decided. 

M  Sit  down,"  suggested  Bilge  artfully,  still  intent 
upon  wiping  out  utterly  Patrick's  objection  to  the 
use  of  this  particular  bit  of  beach  and  hillside  as  a 
picnic  ground. 

Patrick,  using  the  blackthorn,  which  had  been  re- 
turned to  him  as  his  manner  became  more  pacific, 
eased  his  gnarled  joints  downward  to  the  grass  as 
it  sloped  toward  the  beach,  and  sat  bolt  upright, 
with  his  short  legs  thrust  straight  out  in  front  of 
him  at  an  angle  of  about  sixty  degrees,  which  angle 
Bilge  thoughtfully  populated  with  a  heap  of  those 
small  black  bottles.  Bilge's  next  act  of  hospitality 
was  to  sit  down  beside  Pat  and  fall  into  confidential 
chat,  their  two  backs  to  the  picnic  party,  which,  hav- 
ing tired  of  playing  ape  to  Wart,  had  swung  to  the 
other  extreme  by  preparing  hilariously  to  lynch  the 
said  comedian  as  an  oppressive  Irish  landlord. 

"  Is  it  true,  so  be,  that  there's  millionaires'  sons 
among   the    enlisted    men    of    the    United    States 


12         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

Navy  ?  "  inquired  Patrick  directly,  acquiring  an  in- 
creasing respect  for  and  interest  in  his  hosts  with 
every  bottle  he  consumed. 

"  Oh,  some,"  admitted  Bilge  conservatively,  but 
again  unable  to  resist  temptation.  "  Of  course  the 
jackies  ain't  all  that  kind,  but  there's  probably  a  mil- 
lionaire to  each  ship.  Some  ships  have  got  more. 
Ours  has  got  three." 

"  Ye  don't  mean  it!  "  gasped  Patrick,  shifting  his 
features  to  a  one-eyed  contemplation  of  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  hanging  without  as  yet  comprehending 
their  significance,  and  studying  the  entire  company 
with  renewed  interest. 

"  Yonder  —  yonder's  a  millionaire,"  said  Bilge, 
casting  a  pebble  toward  innocent  Jimmie  Roser,  a 
modest,  retiring  boy,  whose  dark  handsome  face, 
romantic  air,  and  the  particularly  new  suit  of  blues 
he  happened  to  be  wearing  suggested  to  Bilge  the 
possibility  of  such  affluence. 

"By  ol'  S'n'  Patrick!"  murmured  the  great 
saint's  namesake,  sighting  along  the  nose  of  the 
bottle.     "  Yon  lad's  a  millionaire,  hey  ?  " 

"  Name's  Armour,"  specified  Bilge. 

Patrick  addressed  himself  to  his  refreshment 
again,  but  suddenly  the  bottle  came  down  and  he 
reached  out  with  his  cane  and  tickled  the  name  of 
Armour  on  the  can  of  corned  beef  which  lay  atop 
the  heap  of  stores. 

"Him?"  he  asked,  freshly  floored,  for  Patrick 
recalled  having  seen  that  name  frequently  on  tins 
in  grocers'  shops. 

Bilge  nodded,  swallowing  quickly. 

"Do  ye  tell  me  that  now  ?  "  Patrick  was  strug- 
gling with  wonder. 


.  The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  13 

"  Sure  thing,"  observed  Bilge,  able  now  to  com- 
mand a  casual  air.     "  This  is  young  Armour." 

Patrick  forgot  his  frothy  little  bottle  in  gazing 
at  Armour;  and  then  "  Who's  the  others?  "  he  de- 
manded abruptly. 

Bilge  gazed  meditatively  over  his  flock  to  see  upon 
whom  he  should  next  confer  the  responsibilities  of 
great  wealth. 

"  Begob !  They're  hanging  the  Sicretry's  son !  " 
exclaimed  Patrick,  starting  up  in  amazement. 

"  It's  only  a  joke,"  assured  Bilge.  "  They'll  cut 
him  down  before  he  comes  to  the  last  gasp.  At  least 
they  always  have  heretofore.  It's  a  way  they  have 
of  hazin'  the  young  man  to  keep  him  down  and 
remind  him  that  this  is  a  democratic  Navy,  of  ours." 

"  'Tis  a  great  Navy  that  ye  have,  you  Yankees," 
agreed  Patrick  complimentarily.  "  But  who's  these 
other  millionaires?  " 

"  Well,  yonder  —  yonder's  one  of  'em  —  that  tall 
guy  making  the  sandwiches." 

"  A  millionaire  makin'  the  sandwiches !  "  gasped 
Patrick.  "  For  the  love  of  Mike  now,  would  ye 
believe  that  if  ye  seen  it  with  yer  own  eyes  even? 
What's  his  name  ?  " 

"  Astor.  That's  young  Astor.  You've  heard  of 
the  Astors.  He's  got  an  uncle  or  something  that's 
been  made  an  English  peer  or  knight  or  some  such." 

Patrick's  one-eyed  gaze  was  carefully  appraising 
the  facial  assets  of  Gunner's  Mate  Richard  Dorgan, 
busy  with  the  making  of  sandwiches,  and  quite  un- 
aware of  the  possession  of  great  wealth. 

"  Who's  the  other  ?  "  insisted  Patrick  suddenly, 
as  if  determined  to  get  the  business  of  identifying 
these  young  millionaires  over  with  once  and  for  all. 


14         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

Bilge  hesitated,  with  roving  eye,  then  got  a  sud- 
den inspiration  and  contrived  an  embarrassed  cough 
and  blush.  Patrick,  thoroughly  en  rapport,  now- 
understood  at  once. 

"  You  ?  "  he  demanded,  and  abruptly  sat  himself 
a  few  inches  farther  away,  lest  he  contaminate  a 
millionaire  with  touching  of  his  barn-smelling 
garments. 

"  My  father  don't  exactly  rate  as  a  millionaire," 
deposed  Bilge  quite  truthfully;  but  departed  entirely 
from  truth  as  he  carried  on  with  the  intimation: 
"  He's  probably  not  worth  a  penny  over  eight  hun- 
dred thousand,  but  they  call  us  three  the  millionaire 
trio  —  Armour  and  Astor  and  me." 

Patrick,  with  that  single  thinking  eye,  contem- 
plated each  of  the  three  in  turn,  and  finally  noted 
once  more  the  Secretary's  son,  who,  after  haying 
been  snapped  in  a  most  undignified  position  by  a 
camera,  had  finally  been  lowered  to  the  hillside  and 
was  now  engaged  with  his  teeth  upon  the  knots  in 
the  rope  with  which  his  tormentors  had  left  him 
still  bound. 

"  I  must  be  after  leavin',"  he  said,  popping  up  as 
if  some  new  idea  had  seized  him  violently. 

"You're  not  mad  or  anything?"  inquired  Bilge, 
solicitous  lest  he  had  somehow  carried  things  too 
far. 

"  I  am  not  that,"  declared  Patrick  sincerely. 
"  Ye're  a  very  f  oine  man,  Mister  —  " 

"  Kennedy's  my  name." 

"  Mr.  Kennedy !  And  all  yer  friends  is  f oine 
men;  and  ye  have  His  Lordship's  permission  to 
stay  here  as  long  as  ye  loike,  and  have  as  much  sport 
as  ye  loike.     I  bid  ye  a  verra  respectful  good  day." 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  15 

"  Wait ! "  commanded  Bilge,  and  hospitably 
stuffed  the  two  jacket  pockets  and  the  two  hip 
pockets  of  Patrick's  nondescript  trousers  so  that  he 
clinked  as  he  walked  and  was  obliged  to  proceed 
circumspectly,  feeling  carefully  of  one  bulging  pro- 
tuberance upon  his  person  after  another,  lest  some 
bottle's  mooring  give  way  and  catastrophe  overtake 
him.  i 

Bilge  saw  Patrick  depart  with  a  feeling  of  large 
satisfaction  and  the  flattering  unction  that  once 
again  his  genial  diplomacy  had  triumphed.  That 
the  lies  he  had  lightly  told  to  Patrick  would  pres- 
ently return  to  discomfit  him  Bilge  had  not  the 
slightest  suspicion.  That  they  would  get  him  into 
what  was  at  once  the  most  delightful  and  the  most 
painfully  embarrassing  situation  he  had  ever  faced 
was  an  idea  that  naturally  could  not  have  occurred 
to  him;  but  that  they  did  so  was  later  recorded  by 
Bilge  in  a  letter  to  his  friend  Ben,  in  the  battleship 
fleet  —  that  Ben  who,  in  those  far-off  days  before 
the  war,  had  been  bunkie  with  Bilge  on  the  United 
States  Steamer  San  Diego,  a  good  ship  but  ancient 
as  fighting  ships  go,  and  one  which  the  men  in  her 
irreverently  but  loving  yclept  "  the  old  prune  barge." 

Because  in  order  to  do  Bilge  full  justice  it  is 
necessary  that  he  should  be  permitted  to  interpret 
the  succeeding  events  himself,  the  latter  portion  of 
that  letter,  just  as  the  writer  painfully  picked  it  out 
on  Yeoman  Newman's  typewriter,  is  here  spread 
upon  the  record. 

And  so,  Ben,  back  come  this  two-eyed  gink  with 
the  trick  of  lookin  at  you  with  only  one  of  em, 
a-bringin  this  letter  —  white  stiff  paper  with  some 


16         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

kind  of  a  trade-mark  scroll  of  lions  and  a  horse  with 
one  horn  in  his  face  on  the  top  of  it,  and  the  writing 
this  big  square  box-car  style  that  looks  like  it's  been 
done  with  a  dolly  bar. 

"  Lord  Lallyskallen  requires,"  it  said,  "  the  honor 
of  the  presence  of  Mr.  Kennedy  and  his  friends, 
Messrs.    Daniels,    Armour,    Astor,    and   the   other 

American  sailors  from  the  U.  S.  Destroyer , 

on  his  lawn  this  afternoon,  where  it  will  be  His  Lord- 
ship's pleasure  to  entertain  them  in  such  fashion  as 
his  wartime  circumstances  permit." 

I  read  it  out  loud,  and  some  of  the  boys  groaned 
and  some  of  em  applauded.  But  not  me,  Ben.  I 
was  neutral. 

"  Trouble,"  croaks  cc:nedian  Wart  Kessler,  alias 
the  son  of  the  Secretary,  "  trouble  is  done  up  in  that 
white  missive." 

"  We're  havin'  the  time  of  our  young  lives,  here 
by  ourselves,"  argues  Jew  Dyckman.  "  Why  let 
any  old  lord  butt  in  and  spoil  the  day  for  us  ?  " 

Naturally  all  this  unanimity  against  the  proposi- 
tion turned  me  for  it.  If  Wart  and  Jew  was  both 
against  it  that  was  primy-facy  evidence  that  the 
scheme  was  all  right. 

But  "  His  Lordship  requires,"  I  pointed  out  to 
em.  "  We  got  to  go,  gobs,"  I  says,  "  or  be  darned 
impolite.  They  know  which  ship  we're  from,"  I 
says,  "  and  how  do  you  s'pose  Captain  Bradshaw's 
going  to  feel  if  he  meets  this  Lord  Lallyskallen 
sometime  and  he  says  —  " 

"  Besides,"  argued  young  Astor,  alias  old  Dick 
Dorgan,  "  I  been  wantin  to  go  up  against  some  of 
these  Dukes  and  Lords  sometime.  Here's  the 
chance." 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  17 

"  The  main  idea  with  me,"  elocuted  Stuffy 
Meacham,  "  is  that  we  might  get  something  more 
to  eat." 

And  it  was  a  fact  that  the  lunch  had  been  all  ate 
up.  I  never  saw  men  gorge  the  way  them  gobs  had 
gorged.  We  brought  scoffins  enough  for  the  whole 
crew  of  our  ship,  instead  of  twenty-eight  men,  and 
I'm  the  sonofagun  if  they  hadn't  ate  it  all  up  before 
twelve  o'clock ;  and  here  it  was  three  now  and  every- 
body ravenin  hungry. 

"  They  might  give  us  a  feed,"  argued  Stuffy 
again,  kind  of  plaintive  like.     So  we  went. 

"  You  gobs  got  to  be  careful  now  of  your  man- 
ners," I  told  em,  "  especially  you  three  guys  that 
I've  wished  fortune  or  family  on.  You  that's  been 
on  a  destroyer  so  long  that  you've  forgot  your  man- 
ners, try  and  remember  em.  You  that  never  had 
any  manners  try  and  dig  up  some.  Like  as  not  they 
might  set  us  right  down  to  a  table  or  something, 
with  cloth  napkins  and  two  forks,  and  a  lot  of  fine 
ladies  standin  round  waitin  on  us." 

They  swore  to  behave  and  they  swore  to  obey  me, 
which  they  halfway  had  to  anyway,  me  being  the 
only  C.  P.  O.  in  the  crowd.  So  I  led  em  to  it,  guided 
by  this  old  One-Eye.  He  had  two  eyes  all  right, 
but  he  did  his  most  powerful  lookin  with  only  one 
of  em;  and  he  turned  us  over  at  the  house  to  a  sort 
of  care-taker  like,  an  old  dodderin  wreck  of  a  man 
with  one  foot  in  the  grave,  with  a  skin  that  was  so 
red  every  place  you  could  see  it  that  he  must  have 
sure  been  pink  all  over,  that  guy.  The  first  stunt 
was  showin  us  the  castle,  with  the  boys  makin  com- 
ments sotto  voche. 

"  Looks  kind  of  dingy,"  says  little  Case. 


18         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  I  allow  that  she  aint  jest  exactly  bran  new," 
admits  Ma  in  that  Texas  drawl  of  hern. 

"  I  don't  get  myself  just  right,"  says  Bill  Ehmke, 
lookin  round  kind  of  scary.  "  Somethin  is  wrong 
here." 

"  Shut  up,"  says  Soapy  Edwards,  "  and  mooch 
along.  Nothin's  wrong  here  but  you,  Bill,  and  no- 
body aint  goin  to  give  you  away." 

So  we  followed  this  old  salmon-fleshed  guy  round 
the  house.  It  was  a  big  long  house.  Pictures  ?  I 
never  seen  such  pictures,  Ben.  And  there  was 
swords  and  spears  and  guns  hanging  on  the  walls 
too.  And  the  family  plate !  There  was  silver  plat- 
ters there  as  big  as  the  drip  pans  in  our  engine  room. 
There  was  silver  ladles  and  silver  punch  bowls  and 
silver  goblets  for  drinkin  out  of  and  silver  vawsses 
for  flowers  and  —  cut  glass!  Say,  Ben,  they  had 
cut  glass  that  run  back  to  when  you  used  to  cut  it 
by  hand,  and  every  durned  little  piece  of  it  set  out  by 
itself  on  a  little  doily  on  a  big  mahogany  table  that 
you  could  see  your  face  in  just  like  a  lookin-glass. 

And  there  was  a  big  piece  of  a  kind  of  armor  in 
the  hall,  that  looked  just  like  a  man  standin  there, 
and  it  was  when  we  were  gawpin  at  that  we  seen  the 
first  of  the  real  people.  He  was  a  young  fellow 
with  a  light  brown  mustache  that  come  skippin  down 
the  stairs  in  silk  knee  breeches,  red  silk  stockings, 
big  silver  buckles  on  his  shoes  and  a  red  velvet  coat 
like  Fred  Stone  used  to  wear  in  one  of  them  coon 
dances. 

"  I'm  the  Earl  of  Skibberreen,"  he  says,  just  as 
easy  as  you  please,  and  you  could  tell  he  was  the  real 
thing,  just  to  look  at  him.  And  he  had  a  face  like 
some  of  the  pictures  hanging  on  the  walls.     Well, 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  19 

Ben,  I  retained  my  self-possession  like  I  always  do, 
and  began  presenting  the  fellows  to  him. 

"  This  is  Mr.  Astor,"  I  says,  draggin  Dorgan  up. 

"What  is  the  name?"  Dorg  says,  lookin  blank 
but  bracin  up  to  do  or  die. 

"  Montmorency,"  the  earl  says,  "  is  our  family 
name.     Reginald  Montmorency  is  mine." 

"  Monty  ?  "  beamed  Dorgan,  clutchin  wildly  at 
straws  and  gettin  one.  "  You're  not  Monty  ?  Reg- 
inald Montmorency !  Well,  I  should  say !  "  gurgles 
Dorgan.  "  I've  heard  my  brother  speak  of  you 
hundreds  of  times  since  he  came  home  from  —  Ox- 
ford, wasn't  it  ?  " 

Reginald  Montmorency's  face  lit  up  like  Rube 
Emmonses  when  somebody  mentions  Great  Bend, 
Kansas. 

"  Oxford,  right-o !  "  he  chuckles  joyously. 

Just  then  a  girl  come  into  the  hall.  It's  funny, 
Ben,  but  most  all  the  ideas  you've  got  about  Irish 
girls  is  colleens  —  blondes,  you  know  —  but  there's 
another  type.  Black  hair  they've  got,  or  nearly 
black,  and  more  often  than  not  it's  wavy  or  kinky 
even.  And  these  blackhaired  girls  have  the  bluest 
darned  eyes  you  ever  saw,  kind  of  small  round  blue 
eyes  that  twinkle  easy  and  natural  like  the  stars, 
and  they  have  rosy  cheeks,  and  if  you  get  one  that 
their  teeth  is  good  they're  some  girl,  believe  me. 
But  lots  of  the  girls  over  here  has  bad  teeth.  The 
water,  they  lay  it  to,  and  I  guess  they're  right,  be- 
cause Gatch  —  he's  the  Chief  Engineer  —  won't 
leave  us  use  it  in  our  boilers,  and  no  wonder  it  eats 
the  casings  off  their  ivories. 

Well,  this  girl  was  that  type,  and  her  teeth  was 
sound  as  a  dollar.     I  sized  that  up  the  first  smile. 


20         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  Mr.  Kennedy,"  says  the  earl,  "  meet  my  sister, 
the  Countess  of  Kildare,"  and  he  didn't  introduce 
her  to  another  soul  but  me;  which  was  right  and 
proper,  considerin  that  I  fell  for  her  just  like  Spud 
Alexander  fell  down  the  ventilator  that  time  on  the 
old  prune  barge,  you  remember,  heels  over  appetite ; 
that's  the  way  I  fell ;  and  she  liked  me  too  at  the  first 
glance,  you  could  notice  that  all  right. 

"  Aw,  Mr.  Kennedy !  "  she  says,  the  first  thing  off ; 
but  just  then  my  other  responsibilities  diverted  me, 
for  here  was  the  young  earl  getting  more  and  more 
enthusiastic  every  minute  about  our  crowd. 

"  Rippin  —  perfectly  rippin !  "  he  says.  "  Aren't 
it,  Pater?" 

And  there,  by  gum,  was  Pater,  standin  at  the  turn 
of  the  stair,  and  lookin  more  like  the  pictures  on  the 
wall  than  son  did  even.  He  had  on  a  red  coat  too, 
but  his  waistcoat  was  sky  blue  instead  of  yellow,  and 
he  sported  a  lot  more  gold  buttons  and  a  whole 
clothesline  of  gold  braid  coiled  across  the  front  of 
his  coat  and  up  on  his  shoulders  and  crisscrossed 
down  the  back  of  it. 

"  Ho !  I  say,  now,"  says  the  Duke,  "  perfectly 
rippin !  "  And  he  came  down  and  favored  me  with 
one  of  them  high  sidewise  handshakes,  with  a  mo- 
tion like  stirring  the  mush,  you  know.  "  This  is  a 
pleashaw,  aw,  aw,  haw,  haw !  "  says  the  Duke,  grin- 
ning from  ear  to  ear.  He  certainly  was  an  affable 
chap. 

"  But  I  thought  you  was  Irish  aristocracy,"  butts 
in  Milt  Owen,  right  over  my  shoulder.  "  You  sound 
like  an  Englishman." 

Well,  sir,  the  old  boy  stiffens  like  a  ramrod.  His 
face  gets  all  set  and  hard  like  one  of  the  stone  lions 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  21 

out  on  the  steps,  and  even  his  little  sidechops  seemed 
to  get  hoarfrost  on  em  as  he  looked  at  Milt.  Milt 
figured  he  had  committed  some  kind  of  a  fox  pass 
and  he  was  waverin  dizzily  when  the  old  boy  smiled 
again. 

"Bah  jove,  you  compliment  me,  sir!"  he  said. 
"  You  compliment  me !  I  should  hope  I  would 
sound  like  an  Englishman.  My  ancestors  were 
planted  in  this  country  by  Cromwell." 

11  And  who  the  —  who  —  who  —  "  stuttered  Milt, 
and  I  knew  that  with  that  insatiable  thirst  of  his  for 
information  he  was  goin  to  ask  who  Cromwell  was, 
while  I  had  a  kind  of  sneakin  suspicion  that  any  dub 
that  ricocheted  around  with  young  Armour  and 
Astor  had  ought  to  know  who  Cromwell  was,  and 
so  at  the  proper  moment  I  planted  a  number  eight 
heel  on  number  five  toe  of  Milt's  favorite  foot.  He 
interrupted  himself  with  a  gulp  and  looked  at  me 
reproachful  like. 

"  Here's  Mr.  Daniels  wishin  to  be  presented  to 
the  Duke,"  says  the  Earl  of  Skibbereen,  hustlin  in 
between  us. 

"  Mr.  Daniels,"  says  the  Duke  of  Lallyskallen, 
"  Mr.  Daniels,  I  am  more  than  happy.  Welcome ! 
Welcome  to  Castle-cruagh !  " 

"  Dee-lighted  myself,"  admitted  Wart,  shaking 
hands  with  easy  sang  fraw.  [All  of  us  gets  a  little 
French  now,  Ben,  goin'  into  a  French  port  every 
few  days.]  "  Most  unexpected  pleasure.  I  had 
no  idea  your  Lordship  was  in  residence  here  at  this 
season  of  the  year." 

"  In  residence  here."  Get  that,  Ben.  Now  where 
the  Dickens  did  old  Warthead  pick  up  that  line  of 
talk,  I  says  to  myself;  but  I  know  all  right.     He  got 


22         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

it  out  of  some  of  those  three  shilling  novels  which 
he's  always  a  borin  his  head  into.  But  it  was  up 
to  me  just  then  to  say  something  to  the  young  dude, 
for  I  see  him  beginnin  to  color  up  like  he  was  goin 
to  get  sore  at  us  for  putting  all  our  talk  up  to  the 
old  man. 

"  Earl,"  I  says,  "  your  Pa's  got  a  right  nice  lookin 
place  here." 

"  Don't  call  me  Earl,  Kennedy,  old  man,"  he  says. 
"  It  sounds  so  formal.     Call  me  Skibberreen." 

"  All  right,  Skib,"  I  says,  "  I  ain't  proud."  That's 
the  way  I  get  along  with  these  big  folks,  Ben,  just 
rub  right  up  against  em ;  and  they  like  it  too. 

Just  then  the  Duke  butted  in  again. 

"  Present  me  to  the  rest  of  your  friends,"  he 
says,  easy  and  affable  like. 

I  turned  quick  and  rounded  the  bunch  up  afresh 
with  my  eye,  because  something  told  me  it  was  time 
to  do  it.  These  gobs  of  enlisted  men  ain't  got  any 
too  much  reverence  in  their  make-up  at  the  best, 
as  you  know,  bein  one  yourself;  but  the  destroyer 
bunch  is  absolutely  without  respect  for  God  nor 
man.  They  work  like  the  devil  all  the  time  they're 
afloat  and  they  do  what  their  officers  require  of  em; 
they  take  their  life  in  their  hands  every  time  they 
go  to  sea  and  they're  ready  to  sail  past  the  mouth 
of  hell  any  time  to  get  a  healthy  slam  at  Fritz ;  but 
they  don't  care  to  have  no  frills  asked  of  em  in  the 
way  of  extra  salutes  or  anything  like  that.  The 
British  Admiral  comes  aboard  the  other  day  for  a 
little  run  outside,  you  understand.  "  Treat  'im  like 
one  of  the  crew,"  the  Captain  passes  the  word.  "  He 
don't  like  a  fuss  made  over  'im." 

And  I'm  blessed  if  they  didn't.     On  the  level, 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  23 

Ben,  nobody  on  our  ship  ever  looked  like  they  seen 
him.  They  acted  like  admirals  was  common  as 
warrant  officers  with  them.  They  done  it  to  please 
him,  but  they  was  pleasin  theirselves  a  darned  sight 
more. 

Well,  so  here  was  this  bunch  of  half-broke  maver- 
icks that  had  held  in  as  long  as  they  dared,  and  was 
just  spoilin  for  something  to  make  em  bust  out 
laughin  or  rough-housin ;  so  I  turned  around  quick 
and  threw  em  a  look  that  they  read  and  understood 
the  meanin  of.  "  Play  up,"  that  look  meant,  "  or 
I'll  have  it  out  of  your  hide  the  minute  we  get  back 
to  the  ship,"  that  look  said,  and  they  savvied  it  all 
right.  Besides  it  appeared  they  were  all  too  buf- 
faloed by  all  that  red  coat  and  gold  clothesline  and 
monocle,  to  get  to  breathin  natural  yet. 

"  Mr.  Allen  of  Missouri,"  I  says,  presentin  that 
pirate,  Joe  Allen,  who,  if  he  got  his  just  deserts, 
would  never  be  called  mister  again  in  all  his  life. 

"Mr.  Allen !  Aw  —  what  a  pleashaw  —  very 
great  pleashaw  —  indeed,  Mr.  Allen,"  says  the 
Duke,  and  gives  Joe  his  good  right  hand  in  another 
one  of  them  sidewise  paw-the-air  motions  of  his 
that  passes  for  a  handshake.  Joe  sparred  around 
for  some  time  before  he  found  the  hand,  and  then 
he  must  of  twisted  it  or  something,  for  the  old  boy 
winced. 

"  Pleased  tuh  meet  yuh,"  says  Joe.  "  Pleased  tuh 
meet  yuh."  Ben,  I'm  off  that  expression  for  the 
rest  of  my  natural  life,  for  I'm  blessed  if  every  one 
of  them  twenty-five  jackies  that  I  lined  up  and  pre- 
sented, didn't  say  it.  It  sounds  awful  bourjwah 
after  one  has  heard  it  about  a  dozen  times.  If  they 
had  said,  "  Howdy,  Duke,"  or  "  What's  the  good 


24         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

word  ?  "  it  would  a  been  better.  At  last  it  seemed 
as  if  old  Ma  Ford  did  get  it  into  her  nut  that  there 
was  too  much  simultaneosity  about  it  all. 

"  Hello,  Duke.  How  you  all's  folks  been  a  gettin 
along?  "  he  drawls  in  that  Texas  way  of  hisn. 

"  So  individual !  "  smiled  the  Duke,  and  Ma  bein 
the  last  in  line,  or  else  bein  a  little  juiced  up,  I 
couldn't  tell  which,  hung  onto  the  Duke's  hand;  or 
maybe  it  was  just  to  make  conversation.  Anyway 
the  old  boy  asks :  "  What  state  do  you  come  from, 
Mr.  Ford  ?     Detroit,  I  suppose !  " 

"  No ;  I'm  not  that  Henry,"  says  Ma,  which  is  the 
first  time  I  ever  did  know  his  name  was  Henry,  too. 
And  then  he  told  his  lordship  where  he  did  come 
from. 

"Ah,  Pater,"  breaks  in  the  young  Earl.  "A 
great  state,  Texas.    You  have  heard  of  Texas  ?  " 

"  Texas  —  oh,  er,"  says  the  old  boy,  something 
kind  of  wakin  up  in  the  way  back  of  his  mind  — 
"  Texas  is  where  they  raise  cattle,  and,  and  cow- 
boys—  the  men  who  are  so  very,  very  dexterous 
with  the  —  the  riata."  And  the  old  boy's  face 
lighted  up  and  he  lifted  his  hand  and  whirled  it 
round  his  head.  It  seemed  like  he  had  seen  a  Buf- 
falo Bill  show  once  in  London  and  he  was  all 
enthusiasm. 

"  Well,  I  reckon,"  said  Ma,  trying  to  be  modest 
though  he  don't  know  the  name  of  the  word. 
"  Texas  is  the  greatest  cattle  state  in  the  whole 
plumb  world." 

"  You  ride,  of  course?  "  beamed  his  Lordship. 

Now  I  got  to  explain  to  you,  Ben,  that  Ma  is 
one  of  these  temperamental  souls  that  when  he's  had 
about  two  tablespoon fuls  of  grape  juice  and  a  bottle 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  25 

of  soda-water,  gets  all  lit  up  like  Broadway  on  New 
Year's  Eve,  and  he  had  just  about  had  the  necessary 
ingredients  and  they  was  wearin  off  to  the  point 
where  Ma  was  just  talkative  and  dignified.  Get 
him  anybody  to  talk  to  and  Ma's  imagination  and 
his  eloquence  was  ripe  to  flow. 

"Ride?"  inquires  Ma.     "Why  my  dear  Mister 

—  Mister  —  Lallyskidden  —  My  dear  Duke  —  I 
was  born  in  the  saddle." 

"  Indeed !  "  and  his  lordship  beams  some  more. 
"  You  throw  the  rope  ?  You  are  skillful  with  the 
riata?" 

Now  there  is  nothin  rouses  Ma  like  havin  his  skill 
doubted,  whether  it's  poker,  or  monty  or  authors,  I 
don't  care  what.  And  he  rose  to  the  challenge  like 
a  trout  to  a  fly. 

"  My  dear  Mister  Lallyskittle,"  says  Ma,  jugglin 
his  lordship's  name  again  and  missin  it  at  least  as 
much  as  before ;  "  far  be  it  from  me  to  boast,  but 

—  you  see  that  ring?  "  Ma's  mind  was  workin  like 
chain  lightning  now,  for  he  held  up  one  of  his  ugly 
hands,  on  the  little  finger  of  which  was  reposin  a 
gold  ring  that  a  girl  at  the  skatin  rink  had  let  him 
wear  till  next  Saturday  night.  "  You  see  that  ring, 
Duke?" 

His  lordship  lifted  his  monocle  and  studied  that 
ordinary  lookin'  gold  band  like  it  was  a  decoration 
from  the  King. 

"  Well,"  says  Ma,  "  that  ring  was  give  to  me  as 
the  second  prize  in  a  steer-tyin  contest  at  Corsicana 
at  the  fall  round-up  in  1916  when  I  was  home  on  a 
furlough." 

Now  I  knew  Ma  was  lyin  about  the  ring,  and  I 
had  a  suspicion  that  he  was  lyin  in  toto,  because  I 


26         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

remembered  bein  stranded  in  Corsicana  over  Sun- 
day six  years  ago,  and  I  tried  to  hire  a  horse  for  a 
little  ride,  and  there  actually  wasn't  a  saddlehorse 
in  the  town.  I  could  get  plenty  of  automobiles, 
but  that  part  of  Texas  was  just  so  blamed  civil- 
ized and  agriculturalized,  you  might  say,  that 
there  wasn't  anything  doing  at  all  in  the  horse  line. 
I  would  bet  that  they  hadn't  had  a  thing  like  a 
steer-tyin'  contest  in  Corsicana  since  Cleveland  was 
president. 

However,  I  thinks,  a  little  lyin'  will  relieve  old 
Ma  and  we  can  steer  the  Duke  onto  somebody  else 
presently ;  but  it  seemed  like  the  conversation  was 
on  tanglefoot  flypaper.  Every  time  Ma  put  a  foot 
down  it  stuck  him  up  that  much  more. 

"  I  would  be  delighted  if  you  would  give  my 
people  a  demonstration  of  what  the  feat  is  like," 
says  his  lordship,  polite  and  kind  of  coaxing;  and 
Ma,  remember,  Ben,  was  from  Texas,  where  to 
oblige  is  a  pleasure.  He  bowed  perfectly  grand  and 
blinked  his  eyes,  the  old  faker,  like  it  would  be  the 
easiest  thing  and  the  greatest  happiness  in  the  world 
for  him  to  rope  and  tie  a  bull  elephant  for  the 
edification  of  the  Duke  and  his  outfit. 

And  the  old  boy  really  was  eager !  I  didn't  know 
but  he  was  going  to  pull  that  gold  clothesline  off  his 
chest  and  ask  Ma  to  lasso  the  chandelier.  Instead 
he  led  the  whole  party  out  onto  the  lawn  and  called 
for  a  rope;  and  all  the  while  Ma  was  reelin  off  one 
exploit  of  his  after  another,  till  naturally  I  begun 
to  be  convinced  that  he  must  know  what  he  was 
talkin  about.  Probly  he  was  a  cow  punch  in  his 
early  days,  I  says  to  myself;  that's  how  he  got  to 
be  so  fond  of  milk  punch.     Probly  he  has  been  a 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  27 

good  roper  once,  and  ropin  is  like  swimmin  or  tight- 
rope walkin :  Once  a  roper  always  a  roper. 

Anyway  there  they  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
lawn,  and  there  was  one  flunky  bringing  a  rope  and 
there  was  another  herdin  a  beautiful  spotted  heifer 
round  from  the  barns  somewhere,  and  the  daynou- 
mong  was  comin  soon,  whatever  it  was. 

Yet  there  was  Ma  talkin  away,  grand  as  ever,  till 
the  Duke  hisself,  gettin  impatient,  presses  the  rope 
into  Ma's  hand.  Ma  took  it,  and  it  looked  like  then 
he  understood  for  the  first  time  that  they  was  really 
expectin  a  demonstration  right  then  and  there.  He 
looked  at  the  rope  and  he  looked  at  the  heifer;  but 
he  was  willin  apparently.  He  took  the  rope  in  his 
hand  and  hefted  it. 

"  Purty  heavy,"  he  says. 

"  Fetch  a  lighter  one,"  says  the  Duke  politely. 

"  It's  got  to  have  a  ring  in  the  end  of  it,"  Ma 
says,  when  they  brought  it,  and  he  went  on  talkin, 
recallin  how  he  bull-dogged  a  steer  in  sixteen  sec- 
onds up  to  Cheyenne  one  time  and  had  the  whole 
northwest  sore  on  Texas  and  him  in  consequence. 

"  Tie  a  ring  in  it,  here,"  says  the  Duke,  handin 
the  rope  to  the  Earl  of  Skibberreen. 

"  Tie  a  ring  in  it,  there,"  says  Skibberreen,  handin 
it  to  somebody  else. 

"  Tie  a  ring  in  it,  there,"  says  that  person  to  an- 
other person,  and  so  they  kept  on  passing  the  rope 
down  till  it  got  to  somebody  low  enough  down  in 
the  social  scale  that  they  had  sense  enough  to  tie  a 
ring  in  anything,  and  that  person  was  a  sort  of 
groom.  Anyhow  he  was  dolled  up  like  these  grooms 
that  I  seen  once  at  the  horse  show  and  he  come  edgin 
round  to  me. 


28  The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  What  kind  of  a  ring,"  he  says, —  "  a  finger 
ring?" 

"  No,"  I  explained  to  him,  "  a  small  harness  ring, 
bout  a  three-quarter  inch  ring,  for  the  rope  to  run 
through."  I  done  this  so's  Ma  couldn't  stall  any 
more,  for,  besides  bein  tired  of  havin  him  monopo- 
lize our  principal  host  like  he  was,  I  was  gettin  fed 
up  on  these  yarns  of  hisn.  Sober,  old  Ma  Ford 
is  one  of  the  squarest  shooters  I  know,  but  slightly 
illuminated,  she's  the  biggest  four-flusher  in  the 
destroyer  flotilla;  and  believe  me,  Ben,  that's  sayin 
something.  So,  by  the  time  Ma  has  got  through 
describin  a  litttle  incident  down  on  the  Rio  Grande, 
where  him  and  two  other  cowboys  whipped  a  whole 
regiment  of  Villa's  cavalry  —  an  incident  which  I 
am  morally  certain  never  took  place  outside  of  Ma's 
brain,  principally  because  I  know  Ma  was  layin  at 
Mazatlan  on  the  old  prune  barge  at  the  time  —  why 
along  comes  the  groom  with  the  rope. 

Ma,  still  talking,  takes  it  kind  of  mechanical-like. 

"  That'll  do,"  he  says,  testing  the  knot  in  the  ring, 
and  then  passing  the  other  end  through  it  and  draw- 
ing it  up  to  form  a  noose,  and  then  a  windin  and  a 
coilin  and  all  the  while  talkin,  and  I'm  blessed  if  it 
didn't  look  like  the  man  was  used  to  handlin  a  rope, 
me  forgettin  at  the  time  that  Ma  is  a  journeyman 
sailor  by  profession. 

And  they  herded  the  heifer  across  the  lawn  again, 
and  everybody  kind  of  fell  back,  including  his  lord- 
ship, and  his  earlship  and  her  countessship  too,  and 
then  all  at  once  Ma  seemed  to  recall  something  else. 
"  Oh,"  he  says,  surprised-like,  "  I  couldn't  throw  it 
on  foot.     I  have  to  ride." 

At  that  I  kind  of  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief,  for  I  saw 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  29 

that  Ma  couldn't  really  throw  the  rope  at  all,  and 
it  looked  like  he  had  stalled  out  of  danger  and 
stopped  the  old  boy  for  fair  now.  For  a  moment 
the  Duke's  face  went  so  far  into  mourning  that  I 
felt  sorry  for  him,  but  he  come  up  smilin  in  a  mo- 
ment, chipper  as  a  daisy  and  waved  his  hand  toward 
the  groom. 

"  Saddle  Bouncer,"  he  said,  "  and  take  him  to  the 
paddock.     Fetch  the  heifer  there  too." 

I  seen  then  right  off  and  to  the  full  just  how 
much  of  a  lyin  hypocrite  Ma  was,  and  it  was  some 
much,  believe  me,  for  in  his  eye  for  just  about  a 
second  was  a  look  of  most  awful  pain  and  anxiety. 
But  he  covered  well,  I  must  say.  He  smiled  and 
bowed  with  all  that  combination  of  dignity  and 
grace  which  comes  of  bein  born  in  Texas  and  tinc- 
tured with  John  Barleycorn. 

"  Yes,  your  honor,"  he  says,  with  a  grand  wave 
of  his  hand.  "  Here  I  am  just  a  stannin  round  like 
a  stepchild,  waitin  for  you  all  to  give  me  a  chance 
to  throw."  He  give  a  sailor  hitch  to  his  sailor 
trousers  and  started  to  follow  his  lordship  toward 
the  paddock;  but  providence  intervened  to  give  old 
Ma  respite  and  an  hour  or  two  more  of  most  mortal 
agony. 

"  Tea  is  served,  sir,"  said  a  flunkey  that  I  hadn't 
piped  off  before,  but  he  was  dolled  up  like  the  others 
in  knee  breeches  and  frills  of  one  kind  or  another. 

"  Upon  me  soul,  it  is  tea-time,"  said  the  Duke, 
glancin  at  his  wrist,  and  hesitatin  as  if  disappointed. 
But  he  was  a  thoroughbred.  He  didn't  linger  a  min- 
ute between  his  desire  to  see  Ma  rope  the  heifer 
and  his  duty  as  a  host  to  us  gentlemen  of  the  U.  S. 
Navy. 


30         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  Proceed  within,  gentlemen,"  he  said  —  "  pro- 
ceed within." 

They  took  us  to  that  grand  dining  room  we  had 
seen  before,  and,  Ben,  you  ought  to  a  glimpsed  that 
table.  It  was  a  long  table,  kind  of  egg-shaped,  and 
the  Duke  took  his  stand  at  one  end  of  it,  and  the 
Earl  at  the  other,  and  the  Countess  in  the  middle; 
and  the  Duke  he  had  Ma  on  one  side  of  him,  and 
Armour  on  the  other;  and  the  Earl,  he  had  Astor 
Dorgan  on  one  side  of  him  and  Daniels  Kessler  on 
the  other,  while  the  Countess  of  Kildare  was  just 
banked  round  with  sailors,  and  opposite  her,  with 
the  rest  of  the  gobs  strung  out  between  us,  was  me 
planted  strategic  just  where  I  could  watch  the  whole 
of  em.  Besides  about  half  of  em  was  in  kicking 
range  under  the  table,  and  them  that  wasn't  I  give 
looks  and  grunts  that  they  bally  well  understood. 

And  I  must  say,  Ben,  that  for  gobs  that  lives  on 
ship-board  and  takes  their  daily  eats  on  a  destroyer 
where  plates  is  tin,  napkins  is  unknown  and  forks  is 
dispensed  with,  and  where  the  roll  and  pitch  of  the 
boat  makes  settin  the  table  impossible,  and  every 
man  takin  his  food  gives  an  imitation  of  a  monkey 
in  the  zoo  takin  his  dinner  swinging  in  the  trapeze 
—  for  that  kind  of  fellows  these  mothers  little  boys 
of  mine  did  pretty  well. 

But  they  certainly  consumed  disgraceful.  You'd 
think  they'd  forgot  entirely  them  sandwiches  the  size 
of  a  brick,  stuffed  with  ham  and  dill  pickles,  and 
them  slabs  of  corned  beef  and  pounds  of  butter  and 
all  the  pies  they  had  just  ate. 

"  At  tea,"  I  kept  tellin  em  sotto  voche,  "  you 
aint  supposed  to  eat.  You  just  nibble  a  wafer  and 
sip  your  tea." 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  31 

"  But  just  look  at  the  grub  they're  shovelin  at 
us,"  says  Abner  Anderson,  who's  a  greedy  devil 
anyway.     "  They  must  expect  us  to  eat  it." 

Only  there  wasn't  any  meat !  My  gosh,  how  good 
a  platter  of  cold  meat  would  have  looked,  cold  mut- 
ton, you  know,  Ben,  or  cold  roast  beef  or  cold  ham 
—  a  sardine  even  —  but  there  wasn't  anything  like 
that.  But  everything  else.  Scones,  principally. 
Ever  been  introduced  to  a  scone,  Ben  ?  Well  a  scone 
is  a  little  kind  of  ginger  cake  with  the  ginger  left 
out,  but  all  the  other  good  left  in  and  something 
added.  They  pass  em  heaped  up  in  baskets,  and 
with  bowls  of  marmalade  or  strawberry  preserves, 
and  butter  —  real  fresh  butter. 

The  scones  is  hot.  You  open  em  and  lay  in  but- 
ter, and  then  you  open  em  again  and  lay  in  jam 
or  preserves  on  the  melted  butter,  and  then  you  open 
your  lolliper  and  lay  the  scone  inside  and  it  just  kind 
of  dissolves  downward  like  drippin  honey,  and  when 
you're  toward  the  last  of  the  second  dozen  of  em  you 
begin  to  worry  for  fear  you  aint  a  going  to  get  to 
eat  two  dozen  more. 

And  milk !  And  cream !  They  went  right  out  to 
a  kind  of  spring  house  by  the  dairy  and  brought  it 
in  in  crocksful.  Well,  I  told  you  the  boys  ate  some- 
thing scandalous.  As  for  me,  I  honestly  needed  to 
take  some  sustaining  nourishment  because  I  knew 
what  was  comin  off  after  a  while.  I  knew  as  well 
as  anything  that  they  was  a  debacle  a  comin  beside 
which  the  debacle  when  Eddie  Collins  stole  home 
on  Heinie  Zim,  last  world  series,  wasn't  no  debacle 
at  all  but  just  a  plain  boner. 

So  I  had  several  scones,  and  several  ladles  of  pre- 
serves and  marmalade,  and  I  drank  a  couple  of  cups 


32         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

of  tea,  and  then  when  they  begun  to  broach  them  big 
crocks  of  cream  —  well  I  didn't  want  to  seem  like  I 
didn't  appreciate  the  Duke's  hospitality,  so  I  done 
my  iota  like  the  rest  of  em. 

I  got  to  admit  though,  Ben,  that  my  conscious  was 
beginning  to  trouble  me  awful,  they  was  treatin  us 
so  doggone  white.  It's  a  durn  shame,  I  says  to 
myself,  nice  people  like  this,  a  foolin  em  thisaway, 
and  I'm  a  going  to  get  up  direckly  and  tell  em  its 
all  a  gosh  durned  lie.  That  none  of  us  is  named 
Astor  nor  Armour  nor  Daniels;  that  none  of  us  is 
millionaires;  that  we're  nothing  at  all  in  fact  but 
just  ordinary  gobs  from  the  little  old  U.  S.  Destroy- 
ers, that's  not  good  for  nothin  much  till  it  comes  to 
stampin  on  the  little  tin  fish  of  the  Kaiser,  and  then 
we're  sure  there  with  the  hob-nailed  boots. 

That's  what  I  was  inclined  to  say,  Ben,  but  some- 
thin  told  me  to  wait  awhile.  Some  good  angel,  it 
must  a  been.  Same  time  I  was  keepin  a  weather 
eye  on  Ma.  Ma  was  a  eatin  and  a  talkin  and  a 
killin  time  to  beat  the  band.  Every  time  I  looked 
up  there  she  sat,  a  lyin  like  a  German  Press  Bureau ; 
and  every  minute  the  time  was  comin  when  tea 
would  be  over  and  Ma  would  have  to  ride  Bouncer. 

There  was  some  little  speculation  among  the  boys 
on  my  side  about  who  Bouncer  might  be,  but  I 
didn't  do  none  of  that.  Comin  up  from  the  beach 
I  had  had  a  glimpse  of  a  sorrel  colt  with  a  white 
star  in  his  forehead  and  three  white  feet,  prancin 
round  in  a  little  pasture  they  call  a  paddock.  He 
looked  as  full  of  power  as  one  of  our  turbines,  and 
he  was  all  pep  and  ginger.  He  was  the  highest 
spirited  animal  I  ever  lamped  in  my  life,  and  he 
didn't  look  to  me  like  any  human  bein  could  stay 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  33 

on  him  unless  he  was  lashed  on  him.  So  the  mo- 
ment his  lordship  says :  "  Saddle  Bouncer!  "  I  knew 
who  Bouncer  was  and  that  Ma's  chance  of  ridin 
him  was  just  the  same  as  my  chance  of  gettin  pro- 
moted to  Admiral  for  gallantry  in  action  at  this 
here  Duke  of  Lally skittle's  tea. 

But  here  was  the  meal  movin  on,  scone  by  scone, 
cup  of  tea  by  cup  of  tea,  and  crock  of  cream  by 
crock  of  cream,  to  its  everlastin  end;  and  when  it 
ended  old  Ma  had  to  up  and  ride  Bouncer  and  rope 
the  Buttercup  Queen  or  confess  that  he  was  a  four- 
flusher  and  a  quitter  —  two  things  that  you  could 
pull  Ma  limb  from  limb  and  reciprocatin  action  from 
reciprocatin  action  before  he  would  do.  I  reckon 
that  is  the  reason  why  everybody  on  the  ship  swears 
by  that  old  liar  the  way  they  do.  You  just  natu- 
rally got  to  stand  up  for  Ma  when  he's  illuminated 
for  the  virtues  of  Ma  when  his  lights  is  burnin  low 
and  regular. 

I  don't  know  how  his  lordship  done  it,  but  it 
seemed  like  that  meal  was  over  all  at  once  with  a 
kind  of  bang,  and  the  old  Duke  was  standin  up 
straight  and  dignified  as  a  lamppost  at  one  end,  and 
the  young  Earl  at  the  other  end.  At  the  same  time 
the  countess  was  up  and  all  of  us  fellers  was  wrastlin 
to  get  up  too,  and  stood  there  making  one  circle  of 
blue-jackets  round  that  table,  each  of  em  stuffed 
till  he  looked  like  one  of  these  blue  sausage  balloons 
that  the  good  old  street  pedlers  sell  back  on  the  good 
old  street  corners  of  them  good  old  towns  that  are 
back  in  the  land  that  is  fairer  than  day  and  by  the 
picture  post  cards  we  can  see  it  afar,  etc.     Get  me ! 

But  Ma's  hour  hadn't  come  yet.  The  Duke  was 
too  polite  to  suggest  any  man's  ridin'  on  a  stomach 


34         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

as  full  as  Ma's,  so  he  leads  the  way  to  a  kind  of 
arbor  and  the  servants  pass  cigarettes  and  cigars, 
and  if  any  man  prefers,  why  there's  a  brand  new 
pipe  for  him  if  he  wants  it  —  and  a  corncob  pipe 
it  was,  too,  right  from  old  Missouri,  for  I  seen  the 
St.  Louis  brand  on  em.  And  the  Countess  of  Kil- 
dare  was  right  among  us,  puffin  a  cigarette,  and 
lookin  down  through  the  smoke,  kind  of  reflectin- 
like,  with  her  eyes  squinted  up  just  like  a  man's; 
and  I'm  blessed  if  she  didn't  look  fetchiner  than 
ever  then.  I  never  could  stand  to  see  a  girl  smoke, 
but  aint  it  astonishin  how  vice  becomes  some 
women  ? 

But  all  things  have  an  end,  even  the  politeness  of 
this  Irish  aristocracy,  and  the  time  was  now  ap- 
proachin  when  Ma  had  either  to  ride  the  bronch  and 
lass  the  heifer  or  confess  that  he  was  a  natural  born 
liar,  and  I  tell  you  Ma  would  a  died  before  he  would 
admit  that. 

"  Oh,  aw,  by  the  way,"  remarks  the  Duke,  casual- 
like as  if  he'd  just  remembered,  "  would  you  mind 
obligin'  us  now,"  he  says,  "  with  that  demonstration 
of  your  skill  with  the  —  the  rope  ?  " 

"  Oh,  would  you  not,  Mr.  Ford  ?  "  says  this  girl 
with  the  blue  eyes  and  the  black  ringlets.  "  Do,  I 
pray  you,"  she  says,  and  she  turned  them  blue  orbs 
on  him  full  candle  power. 

Well,  say !  Ma  would  a  charged  the  whole  Ger- 
man army  on  a  burro  for  that  look. 

"  I  jest  nachelly  will,  Miss,  Miss  Lallyskallen," 
he  says,  "  at  yore  request !  "  And  he  turned  to  his 
lordship,  brave  as  any  knight  at  one  of  them  old  time 
tournaments. 

"  Lead  me  to  em,"  he  says,  struttin  something 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  35 

awful,  with  his  chest  and  his  elbows  sticken  out  at 
once,  and  Ma  bein  bowlegged,  his  knees  was  also 
sticken  out,  as  they  led  him  to  the  paddock,  the  whole 
party  folio  win.  The  heifer  was  there  waitin  and 
lifted  up  her  mild  eyes  from  the  grass  and  took  a 
look  with  a  sort  of  a  "  woof  "  at  the  idea  of  all 
these  folks  in  all  their  fine  clothes  paradin  out  into 
her  pasture. 

But  I'm  doggoned  if  Ma,  looking  down  at  his  self, 
didn't  find  one  last  excuse  for  stallin. 

"  I  generly  have  spurs  when  I'm  goin  to  ride,"  he 
says,  reflective-like. 

"  Bouncer,"  says  my  lord,  kind  of  gentle  and 
apologetic,  "  I  think  Bouncer  is  not  used  to  bein 
ridden  with  spurs." 

Ma  got  one  of  them  stubborn  looks  on  his  face, 
but  inwardly  he  was  probly  prayin  there  wasn't  a 
spur  on  the  place. 

"  I  ain't  used  none  to  ridin  without  em,"  he  says, 
just  like  that,  short  and  decisive. 

"  Fetch  spurs,"  says  my  lord,  without  another 
word,  and  hope  fell  in  one  bosom  plumb  down  to 
the  bottom  of  the  thermometer. 

Well,  about  the  time  they  got  old  Ma  blindfolded 
and  one  leg  tied  up,  and  backed  him  into  them  spurs, 
why  here  come  Bouncer ;  and  I  got  to  tell  you  again, 
Ben,  that  Bouncer  was  some  horse !  He  stood  six- 
teen hands  high  if  he  stood  an  inch.  Speed  stuck 
out  all  over  him  and  his  feet  touched  the  ground  like 
they  just  hated  it,  little  springy  steps,  you  know,  and 
you  just  naturally  and  involuntarily  perceived  that 
if  he  lifted  up  one  of  them  after  feet  of  hisn  and 
took  a  shot  at  you,  that  he  would  kick  you  plumb 
into  the  middle  of  the  bay.     Horse?    I  never  seen 


36         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

so  much  horse  inside  of  one  skin  as  that  colt  showed 
from  the  tip  of  his  ears,  right  back  to  his  tail;  and 
there  he  stopped,  for  would  you  believe  it,  Ben,  that 
beautiful  piece  of  animal  action  didn't  have  no  tail 
at  all  —  just  a  little  kind  of  stump  about  five  inches 
long,  with  some  wisps  of  hair  hanging  to  it  like  a 
mourning  plume. 

Well,  it  sure  outraged  me  to  see  a  beautiful  horse 
mutilated  like  that.  Ma  seen  it  quick,  and  his  whole 
expression  changed.     He  got  sullen  right  away. 

"  Aint  fitten  for  a  cowhorse  none  —  without  his 
ta-a-ail,"  Ma  drawls,  kind  of  mutterin'  like.  "  He 
caint  balance  his  self.  Never  did  ride  no  horse  with- 
out no  tail  on  him,"  he  grumbled  on,  gettin'  ungram- 
maticaler  every  minute. 

But  I  could  see  that  besides  bein  indignant  for  the 
horse,  he  was  just  plumb  scared  to  death  at  the  look 
of  that  300  H.P.  animal,  for  he  knew  he  wouldn't 
never  get  on  top  of  him  even.  Ridin  him  would 
be  just  the  same  as  ridin  one  of  our  torpedoes  when 
it  gets  nicely  started  on  its  way  to  Fritz. 

"  I  dessay,"  says  his  lordship,  "  you  will  find  that 
Bouncer  can  jolly  well  balance  himself.  He's  been 
takin  fences  without  his  tail  for  a  season  or  two  and 
I've  never  known  him  to  go  down  yet." 

Takin'  fences !  Ben,  that  one  idea  burst  in  Ma's 
mind  like  a  star-shell.  This  was  a  hunter  then,  and 
the  minute  Ma  got  on  him,  he  was  goin  to  make  for 
the  nearest  fence.  And  yonder  it  was  —  not  a 
fence,  you  know,  but  a  stone  wall,  like  all  the  fences 
in  Ireland,  and  it  looked  eight  feet  high.  "  When 
Bouncer  goes  over  that  wall  where  am  I  goin  ?  " 
That  was  the  question  in  old  Ma's  eyes,  just  as  clear 
as  anythin. 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  37 

But  there  was  a  kind  of  a  manner  about  his  lord- 
ship that  didn't  exactly  admit  of  monkeyin  any  more. 
It  struck  me  once  that  his  lordship  was  kind  of  in 
a  hurry  about  somethin,  and  then  again  I  thought 
he  just  might  figure  he  was  bein  kidded;  and  the 
way  his  jaw  come  down,  and  his  lower  lip  stuck  out, 
I  knew  here  was  a  guy  that  if  he  found  out  what 
we'd  done  to  him,  would  go  leakin  right  out  to  the 
Admiral ;  and  in  five  minutes  the  Admiral  would  be 
flyin'  the  white  ensign  upside  down  arid  have  every 
Destroyer  Captain  in  the  flotilla  aboard  the  flagship 
to  know  whose  men  had  been  raisin  Cane  now,  and 
when  they  got  through  I  wouldn't  have  a  blamed 
stripe  on  me  but  prison  stripes  —  which  I  wouldn't 
mind  so  much,  anything  being  a  relief  from  life  on 
one  of  these  destroyers,  only  I'd  hate  not  to  be 
around  when  we  lick  the  Germans.  When  we  lick 
the  Germans,  Ben,  get  that?  For  we  are  agoin  to 
lick  those  birds  as  sure  as  Germans  bombs  hospitals 
and  sticks  bayonets  in  little  children. 

Well,  with  all  this  pleasant  vision  floating  through 
my  mind,  here  is  Ma  doin  the  froze-with-horror  act 
once  more,  for  somethin  else  had  struck  him.  His 
little  round  black  eye  had  screwed  up,  till  it  wasn't 
no  bigger  than  a  gimlet,  and  the  point  of  its  glance 
was  glued  fast  to  the  saddle.  It  was  an  English 
saddle,  and  an  English  saddle,  to  look  at  it,  Ben, 
aint  no  more  than  a  porous  plaster  stuck  up  on  the 
horse's  withers.  Now  a  Texas  saddle,  if  you've 
ever  been  in  one,  is  kind  of  like  a  sleepin'-bag  com- 
pared to  this  English  saddle.  It  has  a  big  high  horn 
in  front  of  you  to  hang  on  to,  and  it  has  a  big  high 
cantle  at  the  back  to  hold  you  in  when  you're  going 
up  hill ;  and  no  horse  that  aint  a  trained  acrobat  can 


38         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

spill  a  man  out  of  a  Texas  saddle  that's  got  any 
hang-on  to  him  at  all,  unless  the  said  horse  lays 
down  and  rolls  over,  which  is  a  kind  of  German 
trick.  But  this  English  saddle  was  smooth  in  front 
and  smooth  behind.  You  could  ride  anywhere  on 
the  horse,  Ben,  from  his  ears  to  his  tail,  without  any 
interruptions  from  the  saddle.  It  would  be  abso- 
lutely neutral  all  the  time. 

Ma  had  another  gasp  comin  when  he  looked  at 
the  stirrups.  A  Texas  stirrup,  Ben,  is  as  big  as  an 
Irish  house.  You  drop  your  great  big  clumsy  foot 
into  it  and  it's  like  lettin  your  leg  down  into  a  post- 
hole,  and  when  you  get  both  feet  in  the  stirrups 
nothin  can't  hardly  get  you  out,  unless,  as  I  said, 
you're  turned  upside  down  and  shook  out.  But  this 
English  saddle  just  had  two  little  loops  of  iron  about 
an  inch  wide  to  put  your  feet  in,  and  Ma  looked 
at  the  spring  in  Bouncer's  knees  and  the  width  of 
them  stirrups,  and  he  knew  his  feet  wouldn't  never 
be  in  em  but  once,  and  that  would  be  the  time  he 
put  em  in  there  first. 

You  can  bet  there  was  an  icy  rivulet  where  Ma's 
spinal  cord  ought  to  a  been,  but  I  got  to  hand  it  to 
him,  Ben.  He  never  winced  so  anybody  but  me 
could  notice  it.  And  most  all  the  while  he  kept  on 
talking  casual-like,  one  thing  and  another,  to  his 
lordship,  and  tyin  the  end  of  his  throwin  rope  in 
the  ring  on  the  saddle,  and  then  coilin  it  —  but  for 
all  that  I  knew  oV  Ma  was  just  scared  plumb  into 
hysterics,  and  I  edged  round  onto  the  other  side  of 
the  horse,  under  pretext  of  helpin  to  make  the 
throwin  rope  fast  to  the  ring  in  the  saddle,  and  old 
Ma  kind  of  bent  over  so  he  could  hear  me  acrost  the 
horse's  withers. 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  39 

"  Give  it  up,"  I  whispers.  "  I'm  ready  to  make 
a  clean  breast  of  the  thing." 

Ma  didn't  say  nothin  at  first.  He  just  looked. 
And  when  he  did  speak  what  he  said  was  what  you 
kill  a  man  for  down  in  Texas,  unless  he  smiles  at 
the  same  time,  and  Ma  didn't  smile.  I  wouldn't 
dast  even  to  write  it  because  it  wouldn't  pass  the 
censor.  I  wouldn't  dast  even  write  it  in  my  diary. 
Besides  I  want  to  forget  it. 

"What's  your  scheme?"  I  says. 

"I'm  goin  to  pop  the  spurs  to  this  bronch  and  get 
to  Helena  Montana  out  of  here,"  he  ventriloquizes. 
"  Kind  of  manage  to  get  that  there  gate  open  behind 
you,"  he  says,  "  and  I'm  agoin  to  make  it  look  like 
old  Bouncer  bolted." 

"  You're  a  goin  to  run  away,"  I  says,  "  and  leave 
us  all  in  this  hole  you've  got  us  into." 

Again  he  didn't  say  nothin  for  a  minute; 
he  just  looked  at  me  kind  of  straight  and  con- 
fessin  like,  and  this  time  there  was  awful  appeal 
in  his  glance. 

"  In  just  about  seven  minutes  from  now,"  he 
says,  "  I'm  going  to  be  waiting  at  the  landin  stage 
for  a  boat  to  take  me  off  to  the  ship." 

It  was  six  miles  to  the  landing,  and  Ma  was 
alio  win'  himself  the  extra  minute  for  vie  win  the 
scenery,  I  suppose. 

"  Where'll  Bouncer  be  ?  "  I  says  kind  of  reproach- 
ful.    "  Think  of  this  fine  horse." 

"  Damfino,"  he  says,  desperate,  "  and  what's 
more,  damficare.  I  wish  Bouncer  would  a  broke  his 
leg  while  we  was  havin  tea." 

"  Already ! "  says  his  lordship,  actin  like  the 
starter  at  the  race  track,  for  his  lordship  was  lookin 


40         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

at  his  wristwatch  and  sure  gettin  anxious  about 
something. 

"  All  set !  "  says  Ma,  with  a  kind  of  reminiscence 
of  a  Texas  warwhoop,  and  the  next  thing  I  knew, 
here  come  the  wide-legged  trouser  of  a  sailor,  flyin 
over  the  off  side  of  Bouncer  with  a  spur  on  the  heel 
of  it,  and  one  second  later  there  come  on  my  horizon, 
which  was  Bouncer's  back,  a  sailor's  blue  blouse  and 
a  sailor's  blue  flat-topped  hat  with  the  name  of  the 
ship  in  gold  letters  on  the  front  of  it,  and  under  it 
was  the  face  of  Ma,  set  like  you  see  em  set  in  pic- 
tures when  soldiers  are  goin  over  the  top.  Well, 
old  Ma  was  going  over  the  top  all  right,  but  he  was 
goin  game. 

"  Stand  clear !  "  he  says,  as  I  guided  his  foot  into 
the  stirrup,  thereby  doin  the  last  thing  I  ever  ex- 
pected to  do  for  poor  old  Ma. 

I  wish,  Ben,  you  could  of  seen  the  figure  of  him. 
He  didn't  look  no  more  like  an  equestrian  on  that 
horse  than  anything.  He  was  hunched  up  like  he 
was  ridin  the  forward  yard  of  the  ship  in  a  storm; 
and  pawin  at  the  reins.  These  English  bridles  have 
two  sets  of  gear  on  em,  you  know,  and  Ma,  with  his 
throwin  rope  coiled  in  one  hand,  was  all  tangled  up 
in  these  extra  reins,  while  I,  backin  off  quick,  just 
seemed  kind  of  accidental  like  to  open  the  gate  be- 
hind me,  and  not  noticed  either  because  everybody 
was  lookin  at  Ma  and  Bouncer  and  the  rope  and 
the  heifer. 

"  Typical  American  position  in  the  saddle,"  ex- 
plains his  lordship,  beaming  round  on  all  his  retinue. 
"  Quite  typical  —  yes  —  Tod  Sloan,  you  remember, 
high  up  on  the  neck !  " 

Bouncer  was  naturally  impatient  to  get  goin.     He 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  41 

took  one  of  those  quick  snappy  steps  of  hisn,  and  it 
unsteadied  Ma  on  this  smooth  round  English  saddle 
ridin  which  was  like  ridin  one  of  these  smooth  round 
rockin  buoys  out  in  the  channel,  so  that  when 
Bouncer  moved  his  starboard  leg,  why  Ma  rolls 
slightly  to  port,  and  grippin  tighter  with  his  own 
starboard  leg,  he  pops  the  spur  into  Bouncer. 
Bouncer  looked  surprised,  and  then  he  looked  like 
he  thought  it  might  a  been  a  mistake,  but  just  for 
luck,  he  bounced  about  seventeen  feet  sideways,  goin 
clear  over  Midget  Case,  who's  a  nice  little  cuss  but 
always  manages  to  get  right  in  front  of  any  play 
that's  comin  off. 

"  My  eye !  "  says  his  lordship. 

"  My  Gawd !  "  I  groans,  kind  of  silent  and  prayer- 
ful like. 

Ma  strung  off  to  one  side  like  a  piece  of  bunting, 
and  then  doubled  up  like  a  jacknife,  but  I'm  blessed 
if  when  he  come  down,  he  didn't  come  down  on  top 
of  Bouncer. 

I  reckon  that  was  because  the  motion  was  kind  of 
like  one  the  ship  makes  when  she's  buckin'  a  sou- 
wester  about  two  points  on  the  port  bow.  You 
know  how  it  is  on  a  destroyer,  Ben.  We  run  with 
the  bulkheads  closed  and  there  aint  no  way  from  the 
foc'sle  to  the  engine  room  except  over  the  open 
deck,  and  you  start  out  at  four  a.m.  to  relieve  the 
watch  there  that  have  been  on  duty  now  eight  hours, 
because  nobody  couldn't  get  down  to  relievo  em 
before,  the  storm  is  that  bad;  and  feelin  sorry  for 
the  poor  devils  that's  got  to  stick  it  out  down  there 
till  their  reliefs  do  come  if  its  twenty-four  hours, 
and  you're  the  only  man  in  your  watch  that's  got 
the  guts  to  go,  why  you  take  a  can  of  tinned  Willie 


42         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

under  one  arm  and  a  loaf  of  bread  under  the  other 
and  start,  and  its  darkern  the  inside  of  a  smokestack, 
and  the  wind  is  howlin  and  the  waves  is  ragin,  and 
you  don't  know  but  what  you've  shipped  on  a  sub- 
marine. But  you  keep  feelin  your  way  till  first 
thing  you  know  the  deck  aint  where  you  thought  it 
was,  and  the  ship  aint  there  either,  and  you  do  a 
pitch  and  dive  act  and  end  up  hanging  onto  a  guide- 
wire  and  swinging  straight  out  over  a  mile  deep 
sea,  with  the  tinned  Willie  flying  one  way  and  your 
loaf  of  bread  castin  itself  on  the  waters  in  another 
direction. 

Well,  this  move  of  Bouncer's  was  kind  of  like 
that,  and  so  I  reckon  that  was  how  come  that  Ma 
got  onto  it  so  quick.  But  it  seemed  that  when  she 
recovered  herself,  sailor  fashion,  she  sideswiped 
Bouncer  for  about  a  yard  with  that  port  spur  of 
hers,  in  consequence  of  which  Bouncer  hadn't  no 
more  than  lit  till  he  lit  out  again,  and  this  time  right 
straight  ahead.  It  looked  to  me  like  he  was  aimin 
to  knock  his  brains  out  on  that  stone  wall.  But  no 
sir !  he  kind  of  squatted  and  shivered  and  went  over 
it,  just  like  the  ship  would  have  took  one  of  them 
swells  that  used  to  come  out  of  the  Irish  Sea  off 
Holyhead  last  winter. 

"  Toppin !  "  shouts  his  lordship.  "  Toppin !  Most 
daring  feat  of  horsemanship  I  ever  saw.  Perfectly 
toppin !  " 

"Toppin  hell,"  I  says  to  myself.  "We'll  find 
Ma  dead,  gosh  durn  her,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
wall." 

I  give  a  leap,  caught  the  top  of  it  with  my  hands, 
pulled  up  and  peered  over  for  one  satisfying  look 
at  his  mangled  remains,  and  there  wasn't  no  mangled 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  43 

remains  there;  but  off  ahead  of  me  was  a  kind  of 
gentle  springy  thud  on  the  turf,  like  the  bouncin  of 
a  rubber  ball  on  a  nice  thick  carpet,  and  yonder  was 
Bouncer,  that  little  short  tail  of  his  sticking  up  like 
the  poop  of  an  old  lime-juicer,  and  on  top  of  him 
was  a  monkey  in  the  uniform  of  a  U.  S.  jack  tar. 

Yep;  old  Ma  was  still  there,  a  rollin  round  on 
that  saddle  like  the  little  white  marble  in  the  big 
bowl  over  at  Bordeaux.  And  just  then  Bouncer 
come  to  a  nice  wide  ditch.  He  did  it  in  three  counts. 
One  —  he  kind  of  squatted. 

"  Don't  he  take  off  beautiful,"  says  my  lord,  who 
somehow  had  got  up  with  his  eyes  above  the  top 
of  the  wall. 

Two  —  he  sailed  over  that  ditch  like  one  of  these 
flyin  fish  down  at  Guantanamo. 

And,  Three  —  he  put  all  four  feet  down  together 
on  a  piece  of  turf  at  the  other  edge  that  wasn't  no 
bigger  than  the  Countess  of  Kildare's  handkerchief. 
You  never  seen  nothin  like  it,  it  was  that  artistic. 
Hornsby,  clickin  his  heels  at  the  plate,  just  before 
he  squares  off  to  lam  out  a  three-bagger  aint  no 
neater. 

And  the  next  minute  Bouncer  was  pointin  his 
prow  for  another  wall.  You've  heard  of  the  great 
Chinese  Wall,  Ben?  Well  I  never  saw  it  but  it 
wasn't  no  greater  than  this  wall  that  Bouncer  was 
makin'  for  now. 

He  rose  at  it  and  Ma  seemed  to  kind  of  move 
back  to  the  after-bridge,  as  it  were.  Bouncer  un- 
doubted them  jacknife  legs  of  his  and  Ma  sort  of 
scurried  along  the  deck  forra'd,  and  the  last  thing 
I  seen  of  that  jump  was  just  two  pair  of  heels.  One 
was  Bouncer's,  his  shoes  shining  like  Ty  Cobb's 


44         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

spikes  when  he  goes  into  second.  The  other  pair 
belonged  to  Ma  and  indicated  that  he  was  takin  a 
nose  dive  from  the  crow's  nest  to  the  foc'sle  deck. 

"  Individual  style !  "  says  his  lordship  to  me,  his 
face  level  with  mine  at  the  top  of  the  wall  now, 
because  a  couple  of  flunkeys  was  holdin'  him  up, 
while  I  was  stickin  up  there  with  my  toes. 

"  Yes,"  I  says,  "  Ford  always  was  kind  of  indi- 
vidual." And  I  scrambled  over  the  wall  feelin  awful 
sober  because  I  knew  that  this  time  when  I  got  to 
the  top  of  the  rise  over  behind  that  other  wall,  I 
really  was  a  goin  to  find  them  mangled  remnants  of 
Ma  for  sure. 

Well,  his  lordship  scrambled  over  that  first  wall 
right  after  me,  and  it  appeared  to  me  like  he  was 
also  possessed  with  a  kind  of  curiosity  as  to  what 
was  up  there  at  the  top  of  the  hill,  but  he  was  too 
polite  to  say  so,  just  goin  along  with  me  for 
company. 

And  the  rest  of  the  retinue  was  spillin  themselves 
over  the  wall,  and  coming  along  as  fast  as  they 
could  —  first  a  thin  blue  line  of  sailors,  scared  plumb 
to  death,  and  then  a  bunch  of  these  servants,  mostly 
old  and  hamhocked  or  disabled,  you  know,  people 
too  old  to  go  to  war  or  people  that's  been  and  come 
back  with  game  legs  or  caved-in  slats  or  shell-shock, 
which,  if  you  ain't  seen  any  of  it,  believe  me,  Ben, 
is  somethin  horrible. 

They  was  streakin  up  the  hillside  after  us  for  their 
first  look  at  the  remains  of  Ma,  but  when  we  come 
to  look  round  for  her  she  wasn't  there;  and  for  a 
minute  there  wasn't  nobody  in  sight  at  all,  and  then 
we  got  a  snap-shot  of  Bouncer  toppin  another  wall 
two  fields  beyond  us,  for  it  seemed  like  he  under- 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  45 

stood  that  Ma  wanted  to  do  a  little  jumpin  and 
jumpin  was  Bouncer's  business. 

There  was  plenty  of  walls.  Ireland,  as  far  as 
I've  observed  it  from  the  deck  of  a  destroyer  and 
a  few  innocent  expeditions  ashore,  is  cut  up  into 
little  pieces  for  crazy-quiltin.  Some  of  the  fields 
are  as  big  as  Gramercy  Park,  and  some  is  big  enough 
to  lay  out  a  baseball  diamond  in,  but  everybody 
would  be  makin  home  runs  and  the  scorers  couldn't 
tell  the  outfielders  from  the  in. 

Well  that  makes  plenty  of  fences,  and  the  fences 
are  walls  and  Bouncer  was  bouncin  em  and  bless 
me  if  old  Ma  wasn't  bouncin  along  too.  Only  it 
struck  me  as  I  glimpsed  him  now  across  two  fields, 
that  he  wasn't  hardly  in  the  saddle  at  all. 

Bouncer  turned  about  that  time  and  come  bouncin 
back,  and  when  he  loped  across  the  top  of  our  field, 
there  was  Ma  hangin  with  her  head  down  and  hands 
to  the  ground,  and  then  in  a  minute  she  was  hangin 
the  same  way  on  the  other  side  of  the  horse. 

"  Doin  stunts,  bah  jove !  "  declared  his  lordship. 
"  Doin  cowboy  stunts  with  Bouncer  while  he's 
warmin  him  up  for  the  ropin.     Mos  astonishin !  " 

"  Mos !  "  says  I,  suspicionin  there  was  something 
wrong  but  unable  to  figure  it  out  at  all,  for  Bouncer 
went  on  jumpin  walls  down  the  hillside  for  half  a 
mile  and  then  out  of  sight  around  the  point,  and  then 
directly  here  he  come  jumpin  back  again.  And 
every  time  he  topped  a  wall,  I  caught  sight  of  some- 
thing blue,  and  I  knew  that  was  Ma  and  she  was  still 
stickin.  Grit?  Old  Ma  was  as  gritty  as  this  here 
war-bread  they  gives  you  over  here  at  the  restau- 
rants ;  and  my  hat  was  sure  off  to  her. 

Bouncer  had  been  travelin  in  a  circle  round  us 


46         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

and  was  down  on  the  other  side  of  the  castle  by  this 
time.  Me  and  his  lordship  started  back  that  way, 
and  his  young  lordship  the  Earl  of  Skibberreen, 
being  behind  us,  was  now  ahead  of  us,  while  all  the 
rest  of  the  bunch  that  had  kind  of  strung  out  over 
the  fields  and  walls  and  ditches,  was  struggling  in 
toward  the  house,  when  I  heard  a  motor  honk,  kind 
of  a  funny  sort  of  a  honk,  up  the  road  a  piece.  And 
say!  When  that  honk  honked,  his  lordship  turned 
and  looked  up  the  road  startled-like,  gasped  and 
struck  out  runnin  for  the  house  like  he  was  goin 
round  the  bases  in  eleven  seconds. 

Honest  to  goodness,  Ben,  I  never  seen  gold  lace, 
and  a  wig,  and  a  red  coat,  and  silk  calves,  fly  like 
that  combination  flew.  It  looked  like  a  daytime 
comet  goin  down  the  field.  He  bounced  over  that 
ditch  like  Bouncer.  It  had  took  two  men  to  lift  him 
over  the  paddock  wall  before,  but  now  he  just  made 
one  fly  in  leap  and  landed  on  top  of  it  and  was  over 
and  gone. 

He  hadn't  said  Goodbye,  or  Excuse  me,  or  I'm 
sorray,  or  nothing  like  that,  the  way  they  do  over 
here  all  the  time  to  be  polite ;  and  I  couldn't  get  him 
at  all  —  not  even  when  I  saw  his  young  lordship 
runnin  too  and  shoutin  something  to  the  straggling 
crowd  and  roundin  em  all  up  and  shufflin  em  out  of 
sight,  some  to  the  barn  and  some  to  the  house. 
Then,  just  as  I  got  out  of  the  paddock  past  the  barns, 
I  saw  a  big  gray  motor  car  that  looked  like  she  had 
engines  in  her  as  big  as  our  ship's,  come  coughin 
round  the  corner  and  stop  with  a  bang  just  as  his 
lordship  arrived  at  the  —  the  curb,  you  might  call  it, 
where  the  car  had  stopped. 

"  Important  guests,"  I  says  to  myself,  seein  him 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  47 

stand  rubbin  his  hands  and  hiccupin  and  beamin  and 
smilin  all  at  once,  and  f rownin  back  the  young  Earl 
of  Skibberreen,  so's  he  could  open  the  auto  door 
himself. 

"  Must  be  the  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland,"  I 
says,  tryin  to  orientate  myself  and  thinkin  this  would 
be  the  time  to  round  up  my  crowd  and  skiddoo  with 
the  remains  of  Ma  —  if  it  wasn't,  Ben,  that  I  haven't 
got  that  big  a  streak  of  yellow  in  me,  and  have  just 
naturally  got  to  stop  and  see  any  mess  like  this  right 
straight  through  and  out  the  front  gate. 

Well,  while  I  was  lookin,  a  seedy  old  party  with  a 
gray  suit,  a  short,  stocky  chap,  with  skimpy  white 
whiskers  and  a  golf  cap  cocked  over  one  ear,  got 
out  of  the  car,  turned  his  back  on  the  Earl  of  Skib- 
berreen, punched  Lord  Lallyskallen  in  the  center  of 
his  red  waistcoat  with  an  elbow,  made  him  get  back 
out  of  the  way  and  himself  helped  a  young  lady  out, 
that  was  wearin  a  kind  of  an  army  uniform,  one  of 
what  they  call  "  Wacks,"  W.  A.  A.  C,  you  know. 
Her  cheeks  was  red,  and  with  her  khaki  and  brass 
buttons  she  was  just  about  the  chickest  lookin  thing 
—  get  me,  Ben,  chickest?  —  that's  one  I  picked  up 
over  to  Havre  —  the  chickest  lookin'  chicken  you 
ever  saw. 

By  the  way  this  old  party  looked  round,  by 
George,  he  might  have  owned  the  place,  and  he  went 
trudgin  up  the  front  steps  of  the  castle,  like,  by 
thunder,  he  didn't  give  a  darn  for  anything.  And 
right  after  him  comes  Lord  Lallyskallen,  carryin  his 
canes  and  umbrellas  and  the  lady's  little  kind  of 
satchel;  and  after  him  comes  the  Earl  of  Skibber- 
reen, carryin  two  suit  cases ;  and  both  of  em  mincin 
along  like  they  would  be  much  obliged  if  the  old 


48         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

man  and  the  girl  would  kindly  walk  on  their  necks. 
As  they  came  up  the  steps  out  rushes  that  other  little 
dream  in  calico,  the  girl  with  the  black  corkscrew 
waves  in  her  hair  and  the  wonderful  blue  black  eyes, 
that  I  told  you  about. 

For  a  time  I  stood  watchin  the  play,  and  then, 
hailin  the  chauffeur  who  sat  bolt  and  upright  as  a 
telegraph  pole,  waitin  for  everything  to  be  took  out 
of  the  car : 

"  Who's  the  old  party?  "  I  says. 

"  Lord  Lallyskallen,"  he  says. 

"  No,  no,"  I  says  —  "  the  old  duffer  that  come  in 
your  car." 

"  Sir !  "  he  says,  lookin  at  me  like  I  was  some  kind 
of  molecule,  "  that  was  James  Herbert,  Lord  Lally- 
skallen  and  Earl  of  Skibberreen.  The  lady  with 
him  is  his  niece,  and  only  heir,  the  Countess  of  Kil- 
dare." 

Well,  say,  Ben !  For  just  one  second  or  may  be 
two  I  felt  like  I  had  been  gassed,  and  then  I  began 
to  get  my  natural  breath  again. 

"  And  who,"  I  says,  "  is  the  fat  old  party  with  all 
the  brass  wire  on  his  coat?  " 

"  That  is  Hoskins,  the  butler." 

The  butler,  Ben.  Then  I  knowed  I  had  been 
gassed.  There  was  pains  all  through  my  chest  — 
laughin  pains,  and  hatin  pains.  But  I  controlled 
myself.  I  jolly  well  had  to,  for  in  just  about  ten 
seconds  I  expected  to  see  Lord  Lallyskallen's  favor- 
ite hunter  come  gallopin  by  with  his  sides  drippin 
bloody  froth,  with  that  fool  Ma  stickin  to  him  still 
just  like  a  lookout  in  the  crow's  nest.  In  such  cir- 
cumstances I  just  naturally  knew  from  the  look  of 
this  old  duffer  that  he  would  take  fire  by  sponta- 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  49 

neous  combustion  and  begin  to  scorch  and  blister 
everything  about  him.  So,  as  already  remarked,  I 
controlled  myself. 

"  And  who's  the  young  guy  with  plenty  of  local 
color  on  him  but  not  so  much  brass  ?  " 

"  That's  the  footman,"  says  the  chauffeur. 

"  The  footman.  Uh-huh,"  I  says  to  myself,  for 
I  had  suspicioned  that  already. 

"  I  just  got  one  more  question,"  I  says,  when  I 
saw  that  black-curled,  blue-eyed  dream  come  rushin 
out  and  begin  to  take  the  young  woman's  coat  off 
her  shoulders.  "  Who's  the  girl  with  the  white 
apron  ?  " 

"  She's  the  parlor  maid,"  he  says. 

To  think,  Ben,  that  a  woman  could  be  so  false! 
But  she's  probably  innocent  of  any  wrong  intent,  I 
says  to  myself,  the  way  a  man  will  make  excuses  for 
a  pretty  woman.  But  the  fellers!  The  doggoned 
skinflints  —  a  butler  and  a  footman  a  hoaxin  us 
that  way! 

And  to  think  I  was  so  soft  I  come  near  admittin 
to  that  vulgar  old  geeser  that  we  had  lied  to  him  a 
little !  I  wisht  I  had  Ma's  spur  so  I  could  kick  myself 
with  it. 

But  just  then  the  old  duffer,  the  real  Lord  of 
Lallyskallen  and  Earl  of  Skibberreen,  all  in  one, 
turned  around  on  the  top  step  of  his  house  and  give 
the  place  the  final  once  over  before  goin  inside.  Me 
being  there,  clutterin  up  the  landscape,  naturally  he 
espied  me.  I  didn't  try  to  duck  nor  nothin'  because 
I  felt  it  in  my  boots  that  something  was  coming  to 
me.  There  couldn't  be  no  diversion  created  that 
would  relieve  me  of  facing  the  thing  out  —  not  even 
the  sight  of  four  men  comin  round  the  corner  car- 


50         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

ryin  the  scrambled  and  salvaged  body  of  poor  old 
Ma,  stretched  out  on  the  milk-house  door.  So  there 
I  stood  lookin  at  him  when  his  eyes  shoaled  up  on 
me.  i 

"  Who's  that  man  standing  there  ?  "  he  says  to 
his  butler,  but  knowing  all  the  time  jolly  well  who 
I  was. 

"  He's  an  American  sailor,  sir,"  says  his  butler, 
and  I  could  just  imagine  how  that  guy's  knees  were 
trembling.  For  a  moment  the  old  boy  stared  at  me, 
straight  as  a  whistle,  and  powerful  fierce  lookin. 

"  Come  here,  my  man,"  he  says,  and  he  didn't 
look  so  fierce  any  more  and  his  voice  was  kind  of 
bland. 

None  of  this  "  my  man  "  stuff  for  me,  Ben.  I 
don't  like  it ;  but  the  old  guy  probably  meant  well. 

"  There's  a  party  of  em  round  here,"  explains  the 
butler,  soft  and  soapy,  "  and  I  may  say,  your  lord- 
ship, that  knowing  your  lordship's  fondness  for 
Americans,  I  took  the  liberty  of  havin  em  enter- 
tained at  tea;  and  since  that  some  of  the  servants 
have  been  showin  em  round  the  place." 

"  Quite  right  of  you,  Hoskins,  quite  right,"  says 
his  lordship.  "  Why,  there's  a  jolly  lot  of  em  yon- 
der." His  lordship's  eye  shot  away  over  my  head 
toward  the  barn,  and  sure  enough  here  come  the  rest 
of  the  gang;  but  I  couldn't  see  they  was  car  ryin 
anybody.  They  was  sober  as  judges,  though;  but 
I  knew  the  reason  for  that  all  right.  It  was  the 
sight  of  poor  old  Ma  with  his  back  broke  or  some- 
thing, but  just  then  I  made  out  Ma  struttin  long  in 
the  middle  of  em,  walkin  a  little  inconvenient-like, 
it  seemed;  but  walkin  nevertheless  and  holdin  his 
head  up  prouder'n  any  peacock  you  ever  saw. 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  51 

"  They're  quite  nice  young  gentlemen,  I  must 
say,"  goes  on  the  butler,  the  hypocrite,  "  and  very 
entertaining.  In  fact  there's  several  very  well  to  do 
young  men  in  this  party  —  the  son  of  the  Secretary 
of  the  Navy,  and  young  Mr.  Armour  and  Mr.  Astor. 
This  young  man  here  is  almost  a  millionaire  him- 
self." 

Perhaps  the  old  lord  saw  me  blush,  or  discerned 
me  hitchin  round,  or  may  be  he  read  my  mind,  or 
just  naturally  had  a  little  sense. 

"  Fiddlesticks,  Hoskins,  you  old  fool ! "  he 
sniffed,  "  they  were  spoofing  you.  But  you  did  right 
to  entertain  them." 

I  was  already  feelin  relieved  about  Ma,  and  now 
I  gathered  in  one  gulp  that  we  was  goin  to  come  clear 
on  the  other  counts  too. 

"  Bring  your  men  up  here,"  says  the  Duke,  for 
they  had  piled  up  back  there  in  a  bunch,  sensing 
that  something  somehow  was  wrong. 

"  Fall  in !  "  I  says,  snappy  and  sharp.  "  'Ten- 
sion! Forward,  column  right,  march  —  half  left, 
forward,  halt,  right  face !  " 

I  had  em  standin  in  a  line  in  front  of  the  Duke, 
and  I  had  their  mouths  clamped  tight  shut,  so  they 
couldn't  ask  any  fool  question  that  would  give  the 
thing  away. 

"  Very  soldierly !  "  says  the  Duke,  eyin  the  line ; 
and  I  got  to  admit  that  bunch  of  gobs  standin  there 
stiff  as  ramrods  for  a  minute  did  themselves  proud. 

"Parade  rest!" 

I  give  them  parade  instead  of  at  ease  so's  to  slack 
up  the  strain  a  bit  but  without  loosenin  their  tongues 
any;  but  it  was  an  unnecessary  precaution  because 
the  Duke  began  just  then  to  make  a  speech  to  us  all. 


52         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  Men,"  he  says,  "  men  of  our  sister-daughter 
nation:  I  am  proud  to  know  that  you  have  been 
entertained  upon  my  estate,  and  I  trust  the  enter- 
tainment, poor  as  it  must  perforce  be  in  these  war- 
times, was  given  with  such  a  gracious  spirit  as  made 
its  poverty  seem  abundance." 

I  had  to  admit  that  it  had  been  done  with  a  fine 
spirit,  all  right,  and  I  begun  to  forgive  that  old 
velvet-coat,  who  would  right  now  have  been  laughin 
in  his  sleeve  at  us  if  he  wasn't  so  awful  scared  that 
somebody  would  let  out  to  his  lordship  how  he  had 
took  him  off  and  bunked  us. 

"  I  have  heard  of  the  work  of  the  American  de- 
stroyers," his  lordship  was  goin  on,  "  of  their 
superior  construction,  of  the  wonderful  seamanship 
with  which  they  are  handled,  and  the  efficiency  and 
skill  which  is  displayed  from  the  Captain  on  the 
Bridge  to  the  last  man  in  the  boiler-room.  Our 
Admiral  has  told  me  about  it.  All  England  rings 
with  your  praise.  I  understand  that  even  your 
enlisted  men  are  conspicuous  for  —  for  imagina- 
tion —  " 

I  give  Ma  one  straight  look,  where  she  stood  in 
the  middle  of  the  line. 

"  —  for  audacity  — - " 

I  shot  Ma  another  eyefull. 

"  —  and  for  sheer  hangin  on." 

Ma  give  me  back  a  look  of  gloatin  triumph.  The 
darned  fool  seemed  to  figure  the  old  boy  was  talkin 
about  him. 

"  Soldierly  qualities  —  every  one  of  em,"  goes 
on  the  orator  of  the  day.  "  Good  afternoon,  fellow- 
battlers,  good  afternoon.  You  are  fighting  the  battle 
of  civilization,  and  I  invite  you  to  come  again  to 


The  Mistakes  of  Bilge  53 

Castlecruagh  when  I  hope  to  have  the  pleasure  of 
receivin  you  in  person." 

"  Three  cheers  for  the  Duke  .of  Lallyskallen !  " 
says  I. 

"And  for  the  Earl  of  Skibberreen ! "  butts  in 
Wart. 

"  And  for  Lloyd  George !  "  says  Ma,  his  darkened 
mirtd  havin  figured  out  the  old  lord  that  way. 

They  give  the  cheers,  and  they  stuck  on  a 
tiger  for  good  measure,  and  then  I  marched  'em 
down  to  the  boat  as  fast  as  ever  I  could  get  'em 
there. 

I  was  feelin  powerful  lucky  about  our  getaway, 
and  at  the  same  time  I  was  feelin  powerful  humble 
at  the  mighty  nerve  of  Ma,  and  wonderin  and  won- 
derin  how  in  time  he  ever  done  it.  It  looked  like 
"  imagination  —  audacity  —  and  hangin  on  "  all 
right,  the  way  the  old  boy  got  it  in  his  speech, 
but  — 

"  How  in  Sam  Hill  did  you  do  it  ?  "  I  whispered 
to  Ma,  soon  as  I  got  the  chance. 

"  Shucks,  Bilge !  "  he  says,  and  his  old  face  looked 
as  honest  as  honesty  ever  looked  in  its  whole  bloomin 
life.  "  Shucks !  I  found  that  after  spending  just 
one  winter  buckin  along  the  deck  of  an  American 
Destroyer  in  these  here  British  seas,  sticken  on  to 
that  jumper  wasn't  no  trick  at  all.  I  could  a  rolled 
a  cigarette  on  that  there  Bouncer's  back  any  time, 
if  I'd  a  had  the  makins." 

Well,  I  knew  there  was  something  in  what  he 
said  about  ridin  the  buckin  deck  of  our  destroyers 
in  the  storms  of  winter,  but  I  knew  too  there  was  a 
lie  in  it  somewhere.  It  came  out  later  when  I  see 
Ma  perchin  way  up  forward  in  the  motor-sailer, 


54         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

foldin  his  arms  about  his  front  kind  of  tender  and 
awful  partickler  about  nobody  touchin  him. 

"  How'd  she  ever  make  it,  stickin  on  to  that 
bronch  ?  "  I  says  to  Pete  Corhan. 

"  She  never  rode  that  bronch  at  all/'  says  Pete, 
short  and  ugly,  because  Pete's  a  natural  grouch. 
"  She  was  tied  on." 

"Tied  on?     How's  that?" 

"  That  ropin  rope,"  explains  Pete.  "  You  tied  it 
to  the  ring  of  the  saddle,  and  when  that  horse  made 
the  first  jump  sidewise,  Ma  let  go  of  the  rope  to 
hold  on,  and  it  swung  round  him.  Then  he  grabbed 
it  again  for  something  more  to  hold  on  to,  and  there 
he  was  roped  in.  He  kept  windin  hisself  up  in  it 
all  the  time ;  and  when  we  come  on  him  down  there 
in  the  field,  Bouncer  had  his  legs  tangled  in  the  end 
of  it  and  was  stopped;  and  there  was  old  Ma  cutely 
unwindin  hisself  and  peepin  over  the  top  of  the 
wall  at  us  at  the  same  time.  '  Where's  that  gosh- 
darned  heifer,  now? '  he  says,  when  we  come  up  to 
him." 

And  so,  Ben,  our  picnic  turned  out  a  plumb  suc- 
cess. But  it  come  near  to  not,  and  just  goes  to 
show  that  life  on  a  destroyer  is  tough  any  way  you 
take  it.     You  bums  on  the  battleships  has  it  easy. 

So  long, 

Bilge. 


II 

BILGE    AND    THE    "Q"    BOAT 

"  Bilge,  do  you-all  consider  yohse'f  a  brave 
man?  "  inquired  the  chief  boson's  mate  in  his  Texan 
drawl. 

"  Some,"  admitted  the  chief  machinist's  mate  with 
a  look  of  what  he  hoped  was  becoming  modesty. 

"  Well,  then,  what's  a  '  Q  '  boat?  "  The  connec- 
tion was  not  clear,  but  it  might  appear  later. 

"  Search  me,  Ma !  What  is  she  ?  "  And  Ken- 
nedy looked  up  interestedly  from  the  bottom  of  the 
dory,  where  he  was  doubled  incomprehensibly  about 
the  engine. 

The  chief  machinist's  mate  was  conceded  to  be 
the  only  man  who  could  make  the  said  engine  of  the 
said  dory  run,  and  he  took  a  pride  in  that  fact. 
To-day,  when  she  was  wanted  worst,  the  dory  was 
perversely  more  out  of  kilter  than  usual  and  lay 
sprawled  on  the  mid-deck,  opposite  the  engine-room 
hatch,  with  Kennedy  inside  and  tinkering  inquis- 
itively, unscrewing  nuts,  looking  at  carburetors,  ex- 
amining spark  plugs,  and  testing  aim-pump  valves  or 
any  other  gadget  that  might  possibly  have  been  the 
seat  of  such  cantankerous  misbehavior.  There  was  a 
smear  of  oil  and  grease  overlying  the  freckles  on 
Bilge's  face,  and  his  rack  of  straight  red  hair,  which 
had  hung  annoy ingly  over  his  eyes  in  a  lurid  water- 
fall as  he  peered  into  the  intricacies  of  the  motor, 
was  tossed  back  over  his  brow  when  he  lifted  his 
head  and  turned  to  contemplate  the  homely  but 
benign  features  of  the  chief  boson's  mate. 


56         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  They're  makin'  one  over  at  the  basin,"  Ma  ob- 
served as,  after  tearing  off  a  bite  of  plug  twist,  he 
sat  on  the  gunwale  of  the  motor  dory  and  gazed 
blandly  down  at  the  knotted  figure  in  the  greasy 
dungarees. 

"  Out  of  what?  "  inquired  Bilge,  piqued  as  always 
by  problems  in  construction. 

"  Some  kind  of  an  old  lime-juicer,  "  deposed  the 
Texan.  "  I  allow  'at  she  was  about  the  toughest- 
lookin'  old  hulk  you  ever  laid  your  eyes  on  to  start 
with,  but  they-all  have  got  her  camouflooed  up  to 
look  like  a  right  smart  of  a  boat  now." 

"  What  they  goin'  to  do  with  her?  " 

"  Hunt  submarines." 

"  Hunt  submarines  ?  Ma,  you  make  a  noise  like 
a  nut,"  reproved  Bilge. 

"  I  dunno  about  that,"  demurred  Ma,  who  was 
undertaking  this  exposition  with  the  express  idea  of 
involving  his  bosom  friend  in  a  mad  project  to  which 
he  was  himself  already  committed,  and  who  must 
proceed  therefore  with  circumspection.  "  The  idea 
is  to  take  this  old  tub  out  for  a  sort  of  decoy  duck, 
and  run  her  back  and  forth  across  the  Channel  till 
a  sub  comes  up  and  torpedoes  her,  and  then  they're 
goin'  to  turn  round  and  everlastingly  lam  the  tar 
out  of  the  Hun." 

The  monkey  wrench  fell  with  a  clatter  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  boat.  Bilge  untied  one-half  of  the 
square  knot  formed  by  his  legs  and  arms  and  sat 
up  quite  straight. 

"  That  sounds  reasonable  now,  don't  it  ?  "  he  com- 
mented with  sarcasm  that  was  meant  to  blight. 
"  Let  yourself  get  sunk  and  then  turn  round  and 
sink  the  boat  that  sunk  you ! 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  57 

"  Hand  me  the  screw  driver,  Ma,  and  I'll  tighten 
up  some  of  those  screws  that's  loose  in  your  head." 

"  She  kin  do  it,"  argued  Ma,  undeterred.  "  She's 
a  reg'lar  floating  arsenal." 

"  Hey?  "  And  for  a  moment  the  keen  question- 
ing eyes  of  Bilge  took  on  a  light  of  cunning  appre- 
ciation. 

"  Yeh !  "  opined  Ma,  and  manifested  the  degree 
of  his  satisfaction  at  having  got  this  much  of  a  rise 
out  of  Bilge  by  expectorating  over  the  side  in  a 
graceful  arc.  This  arc,  however,  took  no  account 
of  Dyckman,  on  a  scaffold  a  few  feet  above  the 
water,  artistically  retouching  the  zebra  stripes  on 
the  side  of  the  United  States  Destroyer  Judson,  at 
present  on  duty  in  European  waters. 

"  Here !  "  snarled  an  angry  voice  from  out  of 
sight.  "  Who's  mussin'  up  my  yellow  paint  with 
tobacco  juice?  " 

But  Ma,  innocently  unaware  of  his  relation  to 
that  angry  tone,  was  going  on  to  describe  the  "  Q  " 
boat: 

"  Forward  on  the  bridge  is  a  sort  of  monkey 
house.  When  you  touch  a  button  the  sides  of  the 
monkey  house  fall  down,  and,  by  jingo,  they's  a  gun 
a-settin'  there!  Then  stuck  in  some  false  work 
about  the  waist  hatch  is  two  more  guns,  one  on 
each  side.  And  aft  there's  a  thing  that  looks  like 
a  water  tank  on  the  deck,  but  it's  canvas.  You  pull 
a  rope  and  it  drops,  and,  by  heck,  there's  another 
gun!" 

Having  thus  concluded  his  description,  Ma  ex- 
pectorated again,  and,  as  before,  the  line  of  his 
indirect  fire  was  perfect.  This  time  no  angry  word 
came  up  from  over  the  side,  but  a  pair  of  wrathful 


58         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

eyes  appeared  at  the  level  of  the  deck  and  took  a 
careful  observation,  while  a  right  hand  poised  a 
brush ful  of  sticky,  gooey  yellow  paint. 

"  But  what  the  Sam  Hill  good  are  her  guns  after 
they've  let  a  torpedo  into  her?  She'll  sink  in  five 
minutes,"  declared  Bilge  with  a  total  loss  of  enthu- 
siasm for  the  project. 

"  That's  the  next  point,"  explained  Ma  with  the 
self-contained  air  of  one  who  held  all  wisdom  in 
his  grasp.  "  You  couldn't  sink  her  if  you  planted 
a  torpedo  in  her  every  fifty  feet  from  end  to  end. 
And  when  the  sub  comes  up  to  loot  her  and  take  off 
prisoners  they  just  lam  her." 

Ma  smiled  ingratiatingly,  but  an  expression  of 
strong  and  utter  disapprobation  spread  itself  over 
the  usually  amiable  features  of  the  chief  machinist's 
mate. 

"Fine  idea,  isn't  it?"  he  snorted.  "Shoot  us 
gobs  in  the  engine  room  all  to  Davy  Jones,  while 
the  deck  force  and  the  gun  crews  lays  up  nice  and 
safe.  Why,  certainly !  "  And  Bilge's  scorn  was 
meant  to  be  entirely  withering.  "  That  scheme  is 
so  good  you  must  'a'  thought  it  all  out  by  yourself, 
Ma!" 

"  I  ast  you  if  you  was  brave,"  reminded  Ma  deli- 
cately. 

Bilge  ignored  this  subtle  shaft. 

"  Besides,"  he  argued  heatedly,  "  what's  to  pre- 
vent old  Fritz's  just  slipping  in  his  pill  and  getting 
away?  You're  lying  up  there  with  your  guns  all 
nicely  camouflaged  and  nobody  in  sight  to  shoot  at. 
What  does  that  get  you?  " 

"  Fritz  has  got  a  habit  of  searching  an  abandoned 
ship,"  explained  Ma. 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  59 

"  But  if  you've  abandoned  ship  there's  nobody- 
there  to  work  the  guns." 

"  That's  the  foxy  part  of  it,  Bilge,"  elucidated 
Ma,  drawing  on  fresh  reserves  of  patience.  "  They 
just  pretend  to  abandon  ship.  Two  or  three  boat- 
loads that  looks  like  the  full  crew  goes  down  the 
davits  and  rows  off,  but  the  fightin'  men  stays 
aboard." 

"But  wait,"  taunted  Bilge;  "wait!  Fritz's  also 
got  a  habit  of  havin'  a  little  target  practice  by  firing 
on  crews  that  abandons  ship.  The  fellows  that  go 
out  in  those  boats  to  convince  the  Hun  that  this  ship 
is  bona  fide  abandoned  are  going  to  get  shot  as  full 
of  holes  as  your  shirt." 

"  Not  on  your  life,"  Ma  argued  stoutly.  "  Before 
a  submarine  begins  to  shell  she's  got  to  come  up, 
hasn't  she,  and  got  to  get  her  men  up  on  top  to  work 
the  gun,  and  by  the  time  she  does  all  that  what's 
our  guns  done  to  her?  They've  sunk  her  —  that's 
what  they've  done !  " 

"  Our  guns  ?  You  talk  like  you  was  going  on 
her." 

"  I  allow  to,"  admitted  Ma  with  a  foxy  grimace. 

Bilge  was  nonplused. 

"  But  she's  a  limey,  you  said." 

Quite  consistently  our  enlisted  sailormen  call  any 
British  ship  a  limey,  from  the  old  lime-juicers ;  and 
all  English  jack-tars  are  limeys  and  seldom  anything 
else  to  the  American  gob. 

"  She  was  a  limey,  but  they've  turned  her  over  to 
us  to  take  out." 

The  indignation  of  Bilge  burned  hot  again.  "  Just 
what  I  figured,'*he  declared,  hitching  his  dungarees 
round  him  desperately.     "  They  go  and  get  up  the 


60         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

ship  and  they  get  up  the  scheme,  but  they  have  to 
turn  it  over  to  us  to  get  the  men  who  has  got  the 
immortal  courage  to  do  the  job.  And  who's  a-going 
to  take  her  out,  I'd  like  to  know?  " 

"  Captain  Bradshaw !  " 

Ma  announced  this  with  the  air  of  one  who  has 
released  a  thunderclap  of  a  sensation. 

Bilge's  lurid  greasy  features  expressed  both 
amazement  and  concern.  Involuntarily  he  glanced 
toward  the  bridge  of  the  Judson,  which  was  where 
Captain  Bradshaw  mostly  had  his  habitat. 

"  It's  a  plant !  "  denounced  Bilge.  "  They  as- 
signed him  on  purpose,  because  they  know  there's 
a  lot  of  men  on  this  boat  that'll  do  for  Bradshaw 
what  they  wouldn't^ do  for  no  one  else  —  men  that'll 
go  along  just  to  be  on  hand  and  to  look  out  for  him." 

"They  didn't  assign  him;  he  volunteered,"  en- 
lightened Ma. 

"  Say !  "  accused  Bilge.  "  You  seem  to  know  a 
bloomin'  lot  about  this  enterprise,  don't  you?  " 

"  I'm  goin'  to  be  his  chief  boson's  mate,"  deposed 
the  Texan,  releasing  his  Sensation  Number  Two 
with  effective  self-restraint. 

"  Oh !  And  I  suppose,  you  old  alleged  ex-cow- 
punch,  you  figure  that  by  telling  me  all  this  long  and 
thrilling  story  I'll  be  darned  fool  enough  to  volun- 
teer, too,  and  take  my  own  particular  watch  with  me 
—  take  the  best  bunch  of  engine  men  in  the  flotilla 
down  into  that  old  hooker  with  the  compartments 
locked,  and  cruise  back  and  forth  waiting  for  some 
torpedo  to  blow  us  all  to  kingdom  come,  so  Captain 
Bradshaw  can  get  the  D.  S.  O.  and  the  Legion  of 
Honor,  and  so  on.  Well,  you're  wrong.  You 
know,  oncet  in  a  while,  Ma,  out  in  my  native  Mon- 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  61 

tana,  we  used  to  tie  a  bleating  calf  to  a  trap  when 
we  were  trying  to  catch  a  mountain  lion.  Well,  I 
always  did  have  a  lot  of  sympathy  for  the  calf,  and 
I'm  not  going  to  be  the  calf  this  time." 

"  That's  the  way  you  got  it  figured,  hey  ?  "  an- 
swered Ma  with  an  expression  of  disappointment, 
and  lifting  his  chin  slightly  he  relieved  himself  of 
accumulations  of  plug  twist  by  an  expectoration  so 
hearty  that  it  was  meant  to  convey  to  Bilge  that  he 
spat  out  of  his  mouth  all  such  lukewarm  prudential 
philosophies  as  the  machinist's  mate  had  just  ex- 
pressed. 

An  instant  later  the  paintbrush  left  the  indignant 
hand  of  Dyckman,  describing  a  very  flat  trajectory, 
but  traveling  with  such  high  initial  velocity  that  it 
carried  well  over  the  bowed  head  of  Ma  Ford,  to 
find  its  billet  with  a  swishy  smeary  thud  exactly  on 
the  ear  of  Chief  Gunner  Abner  Anderson,  who  was 
walking  innocently  but  importantly  along  the  deck 
with  no  thought  of  wandering  into  Dyckman's  bar- 
rage of  revenge  and  reprisal. 

The  brush  next  caromed  over  the  head  of  Abner 
and  fell  innocently  at  the  feet  of  A.  B.  Seaman  Jur- 
genson,  who  that  day  was  on  gangway  duty.  Jurgen- 
son  looked  up  indignantly  to  see  what  careless  person 
had  dropped  a  paintbrush,  and  by  way  of  protest 
and  punishment  lightly  kicked  the  offending  object 
into  the  bay. 

Abner  meanwhile  had  turned  quickly  to  look  for 
the  missile  which  had  so  rudely  smitten  him,  and 
found  it  not.  Searching  next  for  the  person  who 
had  hurled  it  he  was  equally  unsuccessful,  because 
Dyckman,  having  observed  the  mischance  of  his 
aim,  had  stepped  off  the  knot  which  had  supported 


62         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

him,  slipped  down  the  rope  to  his  scaffold,  dropped 
a  perfectly  good  bucket  of  yellow  paint  into  the 
waters  beneath  him,  seized  a  brush  with  black  pig- 
ment upon  it,  and  begun  industriously  to  wield  it 
upon  another  zebra  stripe. 

"  Who  hit  me?  "  demanded  Abner,  and  immedi- 
ately his  hand  went  to  his  ear,  about  which  was  an 
oozy  feeling  as  of  blood.  "Who  hit  me?"  he 
growled  again,  gazing  at  the  smear  of  yellow  paint 
in  his  hand. 

Ma,  the  innocent  cause  of  this  sad  mischance 
which  had  befallen  Abner,  looked  up  surprised,  but 
maintaining  an  air  of  dignified  composure,  though 
with  amusement  in  his  heart,  as  he  contemplated  the 
discomfiture  of  the  chief  gunner;  for  nobody  on  the 
Judson  loved  Abner  in  particular,  excepting  only 
Abner,  whose  fondness  for  himself  was  considered 
noticeable,  making  up  what  others  lacked  in  that 
respect. 

"  You  look  good,  Abner,  with  one  yellow  ear," 
decided  Ma  after  a  critical  glance.  "  It's  a  wonder 
to  me  your  folks  didn't  think  of  that  a  spell  ago,  and 
camouflage  you  up  thataway.  You  might  'a'  been 
something  now  besides  the  chief  gunner  on  a  de- 
stroyer, where  everybody  knows  there  ain't  no  use 
for  a  chief  gunner  anyway." 

"  Who  in  Sam  Hill  threw  this  paint  on  me  ?  " 
roared  Abner,  advancing  menacingly  as  he  noted 
sounds  of  uncontrollable  laughter  issuing  from  the 
bottom  of  the  dory. 

"  I  didn't,"  said  Bilge  resentfully,  rising  up  sud- 
denly, monkey  wrench  in  hand.  "  I  don't  see  that 
anybody  did.  It's  probably  just  the  yellow  in  you 
leaking  out." 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  63 

"  I  did  kind  of  notice  somethin'  whiz  by  my  ear 
just  now,"  recalled  Ma,  by  way  of  easing  a  situation 
that  threatened  to  become  strained.  "  It  must  'a' 
come  from  starboard." 

Abner  made  a  hasty  step  across  the  deck  and 
peered  downward.  Dyckman  was  there  descried, 
artistically  absorbed  in  making  a  beautiful  black 
stripe  end  sharply  at  the  edge  of  a  yellow  stripe. 
There  was  a  bucket  of  very  black  paint  in  one  hand 
and  a  very  black  brush  in  the  other;  nor  was  there 
any  sign  of  a  yellow  brush  or  of  a  bucket  of  yellow 
paint.  There  was,  however,  that  yard  of  bright  yel- 
low stripe  on  the  side  of  the  Judson,  while  yonder 
among  the  waves  appeared  a  telltale  yellowish  tinge 
spreading  rapidly  and  suggesting  the  presence  of  a 
canary-colored  cuttlefish.  Abner  being  from  off 
Cape  Cod  was  a  man  who  could  put  two  and  two 
together.  He  was  also  a  man  with  a  very  long 
reach,  and  Dyckman  was  a  lad  with  a  rather  long 
pompadour  of  stiff  black  hair  of  which  he  was  inor- 
dinately proud.  Abner  lowered  himself  noiselessly 
prone  upon  the  deck,  and  reaching  downward  swiftly 
his  long  ringers  engaged  that  bristling  hirsute 
growth,  relentlessly  jerked  the  unsuspecting  artist 
backward  from  his  narrow  plank  and  let  him  drop. 
With  a  wild  whoop  that  was  drowned  in  a  gurgle 
Dyckman,  paintbrush  in  one  hand  and  paint  bucket 
in  the  other,  disappeared  beneath  the  waves. 

"  You  Yankees  is  shore  some  revengeful,  ain't 
you?"  observed  Ma  reproachfully.  "Supposing 
now,  that  boy  couldn't  swim." 

"  He  can  swim  like  a  fish,"  retorted  Abner; 
"  which  is  why  I  should  'a'  knocked  him  on  the 
head." 


64         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

Dyckman  having  abandoned  brush  and  paint  to 
swim  to  the  anchoring  buoy  sat  for  a  while  dripping 
and  meditating  revenge  before  he  should  start  to 
clamber  up  the  anchor  chains  to  the  fo-castle  head 
and  dry  clothing.  Also  he  wondered  if  Captain 
Bradshaw  was  still  in  the  chart  house,  whither  he 
had  seen  him  go  some  five  minutes  before  as  he 
waited  and  plotted  against  the  peace  and  dignity  of 
Ma;  for  if  the  captain  was  still  in  the  chart  house 
he  might  look  out  and  observe  Dyckman  slipping 
bedraggled  along  the  fo-castle  deck;  or  descending 
the  ladder  from  the  chart  house  to  his  own  quarters 
the  captain  might  even  meet  the  soused  and  dripping 
one  face  to  face,  when  he  would  be  sure  to  make 
some  remark  so  scathingly  sarcastic  that  the  unforT 
tunate  subject  thereof  must  remember  it  to  his 
expiring  day.     And  Dyckman  was  sensitive. 

Dyckman  was  also  quite  right  about  the  where- 
abouts of  the  captain,  for  the  latter  was  at  that 
moment  sending  a  messenger  down  the  ladder  in 
search  of  one  of  his  chief  machinist's  mates,  Bilge 
Kennedy  by  name. 

Bilge,  mopping  the  grease  and  dirt  from  his  face 
with  a  scrap  of  waste,  reported  as  quickly  as 
possible. 

Captain  Bradshaw,  crisp  of  manner,  magnetic  of 
speech  and  clean  of  feature,  with  agate-brown  eyes, 
darted  a  soul-reading  glance  at  the  red-headed  mas- 
ter of  one  of  his  engine-room  watches. 

"  Kennedy,"  he  said,  "  as  a  special  compliment 
to  us  our  British  friends  are  allowing  us  to  take  out 
the  new  mystery  ship,  Tunaloa.  I  am  to  command 
her.  It  is  a  hazardous  enterprise  —  extra-hazard- 
ous for  the  engine-room  crew." 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  65 

"  Yes,  sir !  "  said  Kennedy,  straightening  with  a 
sense  of  new  dignity. 

Swiftly  the  captain  outlined  the  project  as  he  saw 
it,  and  Bilge  listened  with  growing  excitement  and 
the  lust  for  adventure  kindling  in  his  breast. 

"  This  is  a  desperate  war,  Kennedy,"  Captain 
Bradshaw  concluded,  "  and  it  will  be  won  only  by 
desperate  measures.  That  sort  is  best  carried  out 
by  desperate  men.     Want  to  go  along?  " 

"  I  sure  do !  "  gurgled  Kennedy,  blue  eyes  shining. 

The  captain  looked  relieved.  "  Pick  the  men  for 
your  watch,"  he  directed,  "  but  every  man  must 
know  what  we  are  going  up  against,  and  must  go 
because  he  wants  to." 

"You  been  invited?"  asked  the  boson's  mate, 
slouching  by  as  Bilge  came  down  from  the  chart 
room. 

"  Yeh!  "♦admitted  Bilge  laconically. 

"  Turned  it  down,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Turned  who  down  ?     Bradshaw  ?  " 

"  Change  your  mind  just  like  a  woman,  don't 
you?"  heckled  Ma. 

"  No,  I  change  it  like  a  man,"  retorted  Bilge. 
"  I  admit  'at  sometimes  I  am  wrong,  which  you  were 
never  known  to  do.  But  I  wasn't  wrong  this  time. 
Captain  Bradshaw  put  the  scheme  to  me  like  it 
really  is,  and  it  listens  entirely  different  from  the 
dime-novel  story  you  was  telling.  It's  just  clear 
cold  sense  the  way  he  put  it  —  sense  and  patriotism. 
Besides,  we  owe  it  to  our  allies.  We  only  got  to 
show  these  limeys  how  to  do  the  thing  a  time  or 
two,  and  then  they  can  go  and  do  it  themselves." 

"  These  limeys  requires  a  lot  of  showin'  according 
to  your  idea,  don't  they,  Bilge  ?  "  teased  Ma. 


66         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  Don't  they  according  to  yours  ?  " 

The  question  was  so  straight  and  blunt  that  it 
brought  Ma  down  from  the  humors  of  persiflage 
to  questions  of  conviction. 

"  They  shore  do !  "  he  declared  emphatically,  and 
shuffled  on  his  way  quickly,  to  conceal  the  extreme 
joy  with  which  his  heart  welcomed  Bilge's  allegiance 
to  an  enterprise  the  seductive  lure  of  which  had 
already  won  the  adventurous  spirit  of  the  Texan. 

And  so  it  came  to  pass  that  the  United  States  De- 
troyer  Judson  was  denuded  of  her  captain,  of  one 
of  her  chief  boson's  mates,  of  one  of  her  chief 
machinist's  mates  and  a  goodly  portion  of  her  crew, 
every  last  man  of  whom,  it  seemed,  was  clamoring 
to  get  his  name  down  on  the  suicide  roll,  as  they 
cheerfully  called  the  list  Yeoman  Newman  was  mak- 
ing up.  And  those  who  remained  behind  —  simply 
because,  with  due  respect  to  the  rights  of  other 
ships  in  the  flotilla,  not  all  could  be  taken  —  lined 
the  deck  of  the  Judson  and  gave  a  brave,  lump- 
swallowing  cheer  as  they  saw  the  "  Q  "  Boat  Tun- 
aloa  go  lumbering  out  to  sea  some  six  days  later  at 
the  hour  of  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  the 
long  twilights  of  April  in  this  latitude  promised  yet 
some  hours  before  darkness. 

And  the  crew  of  the  "  Q  "  cheered  back.  They 
knew  how  they  were  envied.  These  men  who  daily 
risked  life  and  limb  on  destroyers  engaged  in  patrol 
or  convoy  work  were  filled  with  jealousy  at  the 
opportunity  of  their  fellows  who  were  going  to  a 
duty  far  more  dangerous. 

Rationally,  intelligently  they  rejected  the  assign- 
ment to  the  "  Q  "  boat  as  the  logic  of  Bilge  had 
rejected  it.     It  was  the  farthest  from  a  bombproof 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  67 

job  they  could  imagine.  But  emotionally,  irration- 
ally, vaguely,  egged  on  by  some  uncharted  impulse 
that  rose  up  within  them  —  something  that  wasn't 
logic  and  yet  somehow  commended  itself  as  worthy 
of  respect  —  they  wished  they  were  going  along. 
They  felt  that  they  belonged.  Rather  than  a  V.  C. 
or  a  Congressional  Medal  of  Honor,  each  of  them 
would  have  had  a  berth  on  that  decrepit  ship  which, 
painted  to  look  so  smart,  was  steaming  out  to  offer 
itself  as  a  target  for  a  torpedo  that  was  going  to 
kill  somebody  when  it  exploded,  regardless  of  what 
happened  later.  It  was  a  sort  of  human  sacrifice 
to  the  gods  of  war  that  was  about  to  be  offered,  but 
relieved  of  its  horribleness  by  the  element  of  chance 
and  the  opportunity  for  grips  at  the  throat  of  a 
Hun  which  it  promised. 

The  shades  of  night  fell  down  at  length,  but  at 
first  they  were  not  heavy  shades,  for  an  orange  moon 
had  wheeled  into  a  dim-lit  sky  and  paved  a  shining 
path  across  the  waters,  a  path  that  found  its  way  to 
a  black  hull  laboring  forward  heavily,  the  hull  of 
the  "Q"  boat,  with  her  clumsy  antiquated  engines 
throbbing  dully  like  a  tired  heart.  True  to  the  rules 
of  traffic  in  wartimes,  no  lights  were  showing. 

"  How  long  do  you  expect  to  pull  back  and  forth 
here,  captain,  before  we  draw  a  shot?  "  asked  Kirk, 
the  executive  officer. 

"  Quien  sabef  "  answered  Bradshaw  in  the  vernac- 
ular of  those  Spanish- American  waters  in  which  he 
had  done  most  of  his  naval  duty.  "A  week,  maybe." 

"  Fll  lay  you  a  little  bet,"  proposed  the  exec. 

"Lay  it!" 

"  A  dinner  at  the  Savoy,  if  we  ever  see  the  Savoy 
again,  that  we  don't  draw  a  shot  in  a  month." 


68         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  You're  on !  "  said  the  captain  briefly,  absently 
almost,  as  he  applied  a  telescope  to  his  eye  and  for 
a  long  moment  stood  motionless  and  silent,  his  close- 
knit  body  playing  to  the  wallow  of  the  old  ship  in 
the  sea.  "  Thought  I  saw  something  shine  for  a 
moment  way  out  there  in  the  path  of  the  moon," 
he  remarked  presently.  "  Gad,  what  luck,  Kirk,  if 
we  got  it  to-night !  " 

"  Gives  me  a  kind  of  creepy  feeling,"  said  Kirk, 
"  this  idea  of  being  hunted.  T  can  go  after  'em  in 
a  destroyer  all  my  life  and  never  feel  a  quiver;  but 
this  —  " 

A  small  black  cloud  had  rather  suddenly  overlaid 
five-sixths  of  that  huge  orange  moon,  and  by  so 
much  shrouded  the  sea  in  a  sudden  chilling  darkness. 

"  —  this  waiting  for  them  to  hunt  us  kind  of  — 
kind  of  —  gets  my  goat." 

Captain  Bradshaw  shrugged  his  shoulders  as  if 
he  felt  the  chill.  "  Oh,  I  know,  but  it's  just  getting 
used  to  the  idea.     After  a  night  or  two  —  " 

"  Look !  "  interrupted  Kirk.  "  That  cloud  on  the 
moon  is  just  the  shape  of  a  sub." 

"  Kind  of  got  'em  on  your  mind  to-night,  Kirk, 
old  boy,  haven't  you  ?  "  laughed  the  captain. 

"  But  it  is,"  argued  the  executive  officer.  "  You 
can  see  his  conning  tower  and  his  gun  —  by  Jove, 
it's  a  big  one !  —  and  what  looks  like  men  sitting 
round  on  the  deck,  taking  the  air,  just  the  way  they 
probably  are  wherever  subs  are  riding  on  the  sur- 
face to-night." 

Bradshaw  laughed  again,  but  not  unsympathet- 
ically.  "  Does  look  a  little  like  it,"  he  admitted. 
The  cloud  drifted  on  and  obscured  the  face  of  the 
moon  entirely. 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  69 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  scared,"  assured  Kirk. 

"At  a  cloud?  Of  course  not!  Besides,  any  man's 
liable  to  get  the  wind  up  if  he  thinks  about  it.  I 
get  it  when  I  think  about  the  boys  on  •  watch  in  the 
engine  room.  They're  the  ones  that  take  the  short 
chance.  I've  got  everybody  else  sleeping  out  of 
danger." 

"  They're  game !  "  approved  Kirk. 

"  Game?  If  they  weren't  I  wouldn't  think  about 
'em.  Since  they  don't  think  for  themselves  I  do 
it  for  'em." 

But  the  captain  was  wrong;  to-night  the  ratings 
were  all  thinking  —  every  man  on  the  ship  was 
thinking,  whether  he  stood  at  lookout,  or  marked  the 
pound  of  the  engines,  or  twisted  in  his  hammock  or 
on  a  mattress  of  straw.  The  newness  of  the  sensa- 
tion—  this  particular  sensation  —  made  everybody 
thoughtful.  Minds  went  back  across  the  Atlantic 
waters  to  wives  or  sweethearts  or  mothers  or  little 
children. 

Some  of  these  were  in  tenements  of  great  cities 
on  the  Eastern  seaboard,  where  poverty  had  always 
stalked,  while  some  were  on  drives  and  boulevards 
or  in  big  country  houses,  where  there  was  luxury 
and  ease  and  plenty.  Some  went  back  to  homes  in 
Appalachian  manufacturing  towns,  and  some  went 
on  west  to  the  great  prairies,  and  farther  still  to  the 
giant  Rockies  and  the  fecund  slopes  that  go  down 
to  the  Pacific  Ocean.  Some  minds  turned  in  at 
broad  entrances  to  wide  rich  farms,  where  all  wealth 
of  the  soil  boiled  up  its  plenty,  and  some  turned  in 
at  little  wind-swept  settlers'  shanties  or  climbed  nar- 
row canon  trails  to  clefts  in  mountains  that  were 
almost  like  eagles'  aeries. 


70         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

So  the  minds  turned  back  and  worshiped  at  their 
several  memory  shrines,  thinking  and  thinking  of 
all  the  life  behind.  And  whether  the  past  had  been 
rich  or  poor,  love-filled  or  bleak  and  empty  with 
only  moments  of  heart  happiness,  it  seemed  to  each 
that  it  had  been  rather  prolific  of  fine  things,  and 
each  thought  of  his  own  memory  treasures  long- 
ingly. As  they  looked  forward  it  seemed  that,  given 
the  old  setting  and  the  old  opportunity,  they  could 
make  it  very  much  better,  and  they  decided  that  they 
would  when  the  war  was  over. 

The  moon  crept  slowly  from  behind  the  cloud. 

"  Did  look  kind  of  like  a  submarine,"  conceded 
the  captain  again  as  the  last  wraith  of  vapor  trailed 
off  the  golden  face  that  wheeled  higher  and  higher 
in  the  heavens.     "  My  God !  " 

There  was  a  sudden  jar  and  the  ship  appeared 
abruptly  to  stand  still,  while  a  muffled  report  sounded 
below  and  the  bridge  deck  pulsed  sharply  under  their 
feet. 

"  We've  got  it !  "  said  Kirk  laconically. 

"  We  have !  "  exulted  Captain  Bradshaw.  "  And 
the  first  night  out!  Great!  Great!  But  where? 
Well  forward  of  the  engine  room,  don't  you  think  ?  " 

With  a  touch  of  the  captain's  finger  electric  lights 
had  flashed  on  all  over  the  ship,  and  the  forms  of 
men  leaping  up  from  the  deck  or  pouring  from  the 
hatchways  appeared,  rushing  scantily  clothed  to  the 
lifeboats  to  form  the  "  panic  party."  There  were 
shouts  and  cries  and  orders  hoarsely  bawled.  There 
was  every  simulation  of  excitement  and  distress. 

Out  of  this  instantaneous  turmoil  a  man  came 
flying  to  the  bridge  to  report :  "  Torpedo  in  forward 
starboard  bunkers." 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  71 

"Any  casualties?"  asked  the  captain  anxiously. 

"  None,  sir,  but  the  boiler-room  bulkhead  is  giving 
way  under  water  pressure." 

"  Tell  Kennedy  to  take  his  men  out  and  get  to 
the  boats." 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir." 

Already  a  boat  was  swinging  out  on  the  falls  and 
being  lowered  excitedly,  one  end  going  down  first  — 
much  first  —  and  then  the  ropes  sticking  and  an 
apparently  frantic  man  cutting  the  clogging  line  and 
letting  the  other  end  of  the  craft  swing  free  so  that 
it  would  have  spilled  its  complement  into  the  water 
if  there  had  been  a  complement  within  it.  This 
boat  at  the  disabled  fall  was  abandoned  and  a  second 
lowered,  successfully  but  with  noise  and  clatter.  A 
third  also  reached  the  water  safely,  with  some  men 
already  in  it  and  some  others  sliding  swiftly  down 
the  ropes.  A  fourth  boat  was  coming  down  the 
falls  —  a  trick  boat  this,  filled  in  the  main  with 
dummies  and  manned  by  but  four  live  men  —  Bilge 
Kennedy,  Ma  Ford,  Dyckman  and  Bunnie  Mcln- 
tyre.  Bilge  and  Ma,  each  something  of  a  leader  of 
men,  were  doubled  up  with  these  dummies,  where 
there  was  little  leading  to  do,  primarily  because 
Executive  Officer  Kirk  knew  the  penchant  of  each 
for  the  company  of  the  other,  and  also  because  he 
knew  that,  with  the  chance  of  the  torpedo  what  it 
was,  Bilge  might  never  come  out  of  the  engine  room 
at  all,  in  which  event  there  would  be  no  duplication 
of  leadership  in  the  dummy  boat,  for  Ma  Ford 
would  then  king  it  there  with  undivided  sway. 

But  Bilge  with  all  his  crew  had  come  safely  from 
the  engine  room,  and  he  threw  himself  heart  and 
soul  into  playing  his  part  as  a  member  of  the  panic 


72         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

party.  His  boat,  however,  encountered  difficulties 
before  it  reached  the  water,  bringing  up  on  some 
obstruction  with  a  bump  that  shook  every  tooth  in 
Bilge's  head  and  threatened  to  spill  the  laboriously 
prepared  dummies  into  the  sea. 

"  Stop !  "  shouted  Bilge  to  Dyckman  and  Mcln- 
tyre,  who  were  lowering  away.  "  What  the  blue 
blazes  —  " 

"  Bunker  port  is  open,"  discerned  Ma,  peering 
from  his  end.     "  We  hit  on  it." 

"  Blown  open  by  the  explosion,  by  heck,  but  still 
on  the  hinges,"  commented  Bilge  in  some  wonder, 
and  promptly  lowering  himself  over  the  side  of  the 
boat  he  stepped  on  the  port  and  swung  it  round  out 
of  the  way,  as  children  ride  on  a  gate.  When  the 
boat  passed  swiftly  down  again  Bilge  agilely  leaped 
within  and  a  moment  later  kicked  the  patent  release 
which  set  it  free  on  the  waves  just  as  Dyckman  and 
Bunnie  came  sliding  down  among  the  dummies. 

"  Get  her  movin',"  ordered  Bilge,  and  each  of  the 
four  bending  to  an  oar  they  swung  off  in  the  wake 
of  the  two  other  boats. 

The  moon,  whether  by  way  of  playing  her  part 
in  the  game  of  deception  or  because,  not  understand- 
ing, she  could  no  longer  bear  to  look  upon  a  sight 
like  this,  rolled  behind  another  shutter  of  cloud  so 
thick  that  it  shrouded  the  sea  in  total  darkness, 
save  only  for  the  specks  of  tail  lights  on  the  receding 
lifeboats  and  the  electric  clusters  still  burning  on 
the  Tunaloa,  which  looked  empty  and  deserted  as  a 
graveyard. 

But  this  emptiness  of  appearance  as  well  as  the 
panic  was  all  according  to  program,  according  to 
rehearsal  conducted  for  four  afternoons  in  port, 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  73 

even  to  that  first  boat  with  the  fall  rope  cut,  which 
swung  now  so  uselessly  from  one  end,  like  a  mute 
but  dramatic  witness  to  shattered  inefficient  nerves. 
There  was  no  sound  of  human  presence  anywhere 
about,  save,  far  out,  the  rhythmic  dip  of  oars,  grow- 
ing fainter  and  fainter,  and  that  was  drowned  as 
steam  began  to  blow  off  in  the  boilers  of  the 
Tunaloa. 

Yet  the  "  Q  "  boat  was  by  no  means  deserted. 
Captain  Bradshaw,  Executive  Officer  Kirk  and 
every  other  commissioned  officer  of  the  ship  were 
there,  waiting  motionless  or  with  their  movements 
carefully  screened.  The  gunners  were  concealed 
behind  their  ambushed  guns,  every  muscle  tense, 
every  nerve  alert,  watchful  and  waiting  for  signals, 
while  hidden  lookouts  scanned  the  black  surface  of 
the  sea  in  every  direction  for  a  sign  of  the  U-boat; 
but  mostly  of  course  they  looked  to  starboard,  for 
from  starboard  had  come  the  blow. 

Minutes  passed  and  more  minutes,  and  the  enemy 
did  not  appear.  The  "  Q  "  boat  had  settled  some- 
what in  the  water  and  was  slowly  assuming  a  lazy 
list  to  starboard.  There  was  a  smell  of  something 
burning  too,  and  presently  smoke  tingled  in  the  nos- 
trils of  Captain  Bradshaw  till  he  was  put  to  it  to 
keep  from  sneezing.  Peering  out  he  detected  a 
faint  cloud  rising  from  the  boiler-room  hatch.  This 
was  not  according  to  rehearsal.  The  explosion  must 
have  set  something  on  fire  —  the  bunkers  probably ; 
still  the  captain  contemplated  the  prospective  con- 
flagration without  apprehension.  It  was  one  more 
theatrical  "property"  of  an  abandoned  ship;  so  he 
waited. 

But  the  U-boat  was  slow  in  appearing  —  very, 


74         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

very  slow.  It  was  cautious  —  very,  very  cautious 
and  canny.  There  was,  however,  nothing  for  the 
men  on  board  to  do  but  wait  stubbornly.  Months 
of  hard  work  and  thousands  in  money  had  been 
spent  in  getting  the  Tunaloa  ready  for  her  task. 
Now  the  trap  had  been  baited,  it  was  all  ready  to 
spring,  and  no  impatient  move  of  those  ambushed 
on  board  must  defeat  the  purpose. 

So  Captain  Bradshaw  crouched  and  peered;  but 
the  smell  of  smoke  grew  stronger.  A  speaking  tube 
at  his  elbow  rumbled  and  the  captain  applied  an  ear. 

"  The  fire  is  making  headway,  sir !  "  reported  the 
voice  of  Abner  Anderson,  in  charge  of  the  port 
waist  gun. 

"  Can  you  get  to  it  without  exposing  yourself 
on  the  deck  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Then  hold  fast.  Don't  let  a  man  move.  Not 
one!" 

11  Aye,  aye,  sir." 

The  captain  returned  to  his  scanning  of  the  dark. 
"If  only  that  fellow  would  come  up  and  give  us 
the  once  over !  "  he  grumbled,  when  the  speaking 
tube's  depths  were  agitated  again  and  the  same  voice 
of  Abner  Anderson  was  heard,  but  this  time  some- 
what less  even  in  its  tenor. 

"Have  you  thought  of  the  magazine,  sir?"  it 
inquired. 

"  How  far  is  the  fire  from  the  magazine?  " 

"  About  thirty  feet,  sir ;  but  it  might  be  a  good 
deal  closer.     It's  kind  of  eating  along  out  of  sight." 

"  Lay  low  and  stick  it  out !  "  ordered  the  captain 
sharply. 

"All  right,  sir,"  answered  Abner;  but  there  was 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  75 

anxiety  in  his  voice,  Abner  being  by  nature  an 
anxious  soul. 

Meanwhile  Bilge  and  Ma  had  rowed  away  obe- 
diently but  grouchily  according  to  their  enlisted-man 
natures. 

"  Blast  that  open  port !  "  grumbled  Bilge.  "  Come 
pretty  near  makin'  me  break  my  back." 

"  Come  might  nigh  makin'  me  knock  my  teeth  out 
on  the  gunnel,"  bleated  Ma  plaintively. 

"  Got  the  old  whale  in  the  water,  though,  and  all 
my  cargo  of  precious  dummies,"  reflected  Bilge  with 
the  satisfaction  of  duty  well  performed.  "  Set  up 
there,  you  corpse,  and  look  like  a  man !  "  And  Ken- 
nedy desisted  from  his  oar  long  enough  to  shoot  a 
right  hook  into  a  bag  of  shavings  incased  in  dunga- 
rees and  with  a  knob  at  the  top  supposed  to  represent 
a  human  head.  "  Set  up  there,  I  tell  you !  "  And 
he  seized  the  manikin  by  the  scruff  of  its  manikin 
neck  and  braced  the  slouching  thing  on  the  seat. 

So  they  rowed  away,  but  not  quite  according  to 
instructions.  The  three  boats  had  been  directed  to 
keep  together,  but  the  boat  of  Bilge  and  Ma,  of 
Bunnie  and  Dyckman,  fell  farther  and  farther  be- 
hind the  tail  lights  of  the  two  others,  and  the  glance 
of  the  chief  machinist's  mate  rested  more  and  more 
longingly  on  the  spots  and  specks  of  brightness 
behind  him  that  told  where  the  old  Tunaloa  squatted 
and  tilted  lower  and  lower  in  the  water.  Bilge's 
strokes,  too,  became  less  and  less  determined,  more 
and  more  casual.  Presently  they  stopped  alto- 
gether. Mclntyre,  whose  oar  complemented  his 
also  stopped. 

"What's  the  matter?"  inquired  Ma;  and  his 
gaze  was  also  bent  backward  toward  the  "  Q  "  boat. 


76         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  I  can't  bear  running  away  from  her,  old  girl," 
confessed  Bilge  moodily. 

"  We  was  to  row  right  on  off,"  reminded  the  old 
girl,  like  the  voice  of  conscience  she  sometimes  was. 

"  We're  far  off  as  I  want  to  be,"  said  Bilge. 
"  Besides,  with  the  moon  covered  up  like  that  the 
sub  can't  see  us.     She  figures  'at  we  have  gone." 

Ma's  silence  seemed  to  give  assent  to  this 
hypothesis. 

"  I  never  did  run  away  from  a  fight  before," 
remarked  Bilge,  noting  this  passive  attitude  of  Ma's 
and  taking  courage  from  it. 

"  Me  neither,"  said  Ma  mournfully.  "  Tain't  in 
my  Texas  nature." 

"  We  got  to  obey  orders,  haven't  we?"  warned 
Bunnie  Mclntyre. 

"  We  sure  have,"  argued  Dyckman. 

"  Ma!  "  proposed  Bilge  out  of  the  silence  that  had 
been  allowed  to  follow  Dyckman's  remark.  "  Let's 
go  back !  " 

"  Row  back  and  give  the  whole  snap  away?  "  pro- 
tested Bunnie. 

"  Swim  back,  you  infant  in  arms,"  growled  Bilge. 

"  Swim?  "  inquired  Ma  meditatively,  the  note  of 
mild  interrogation  in  her  voice  showing  that  the  old 
girl  actually  contemplated  the  possibility. 

"  It  ain't  more'n  half  a  mile.  We  can  do  it  in 
fifteen  minutes  or  twenty,  and  take  it  easy  all  the 
way." 

"  But  how'd  we  get  on  the  boat?  " 

"  That  open  bunker  port." 

"  And  what  good  do  you  allow  we  could  do,  even 
if  we  got  back  there?  "  Ma  asked,  not  by  way  of 
making  objection  but  as  if  he  argued  with  himself. 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  77 

"  We'd  kind  of  be  round  if  anything  happened," 
reasoned  Bilge  with  exceeding  wistfulness  in  his 
voice.  "  We've  got  one  job  off  our  hands  and  if  we 
would  get  back  there  Satan  might  find  some  other 
useful  work  for  our  idle  hands  to  do." 

Ma  thrust  a  hand  into  the  water. 

"  Ain't  more  than  fifty-two,"  he  commented. 

"  Warmer'n  the  air,  anyway,"  said  Bilge;  "so 
we  won't  feel  the  cold." 

"  Say !  You  two  mutts  are  not  going  to  leave  us 
alone  out  here  in  the  middle  of  the  Irish  Sea  with  a 
shipload  of  dummies  and  a  submarine  cruisin'  round 
and  liable  to  come  up  in  the  middle  of  us  any  min- 
ute," protested  Bunnie.  "  If  you  go  back  we  go 
back.  Don't  you  suppose  Dyckman  and  me  have 
got  just  as  big  an  itch  to  be  in  that  fracas  as 
anybody?  " 

"  You  got  to  obey  orders,"  retorted  Bilge  inex- 
orably. "  I  and  Ma  outrates  you,  and  we  order 
you  to  take  them  dummies  and  get  along  with  'em. 
Don't  we,  Ma?" 

Ma  was  at  the  moment  divesting  himself  of  his 
shirt  in  the  time-honored  way  and  therefore  could 
not  reply  immediately.  "  We  shore  do  and  they 
shore  have,"  he  remarked  eventually;  and  clad  very 
much  as  Nature  had  slipped  him  into  an  unsuspect- 
ing world  he  lowered  himself  into  the  sea. 

"  I'll  set  right  here,"  declared  Bunnie  stubbornly, 
"  and  both  of  you  big  bluffers  will  come  paddlin' 
back  here  in  about  five  minutes.  You  both  got  too 
big  a  streak  of  yellow  in  you  to  go  cruisin*  round 
on  your  chins  in  this  water  at  midnight." 

"  Yeh,  Bun,  you  got  us  right,"  observed  Ma  with 
considerable  dry  irony  for  a  man  immersed  in  so 


78         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

much  wet  water.  "  We'll  be  back  dreckly.  You 
sort  of  hang  round  for  us  —  understand?"  And 
his  features  grimaced  derisively  in  the  rays  of  the 
tail  light. 

Mclntyre  and  Dyckman  sneered  while  Bilge  and 
Ma  began  in  long  powerful  strokes  to  fin  their  way 
in  the  direction  of  the  Tunaloa  through  a  sea  that 
was  calm  and  all  but  waveless.  Both  could  swim 
like  porpoises,  and  they  made  their  way  forward 
side  by  side  with  an  occasional  low-toned  remark, 
and  had  covered  perhaps  one-third  the  distance  when 
Bilge  turned  over  on  his  back  with  a  grunt  of  pain, 
and  drawing  up  his  left  toe  gathered  it  into  the 
soothing  clasp  of  his  big  right  hand. 

"  I  kicked  my  foot  on  something,"  he  complained. 

"  You  mutt !  What  you  got  out  here  to  kick  your 
feet  on  ?  "  chided  Ma.  "  You  just  interfered  with 
yourself." 

Ma  had  stopped  swimming,  however,  and  was 
treading  water  while  he  contemplated  dimly  the 
somewhat  contorted  face  of  Bilge  a  few  feet  from 
him. 

"  I  tell  you,"  Bilge  began  to  argue,  and  was  just 
then  surprised  into  silence,  for  the  benevolently  re- 
proving features  of  Ma  Ford  had  been  suddenly 
removed  from  their  place  upon  the  surface  of  the 
water  as  if  plucked  under  by  some  unseen  hand. 

Bilge  struck  out  quickly  in  the  direction  of  this 
disappearance,  and  was  rewarded  by  the  return  of 
Ma,  who  came  up  sputtering. 

"  Somethin'  fouled  me!"  he  explained,  blowing 
salt  water  from  his  mouth  and  shaking  it  from  his 
ears.  "  Many's  the  time  I've  run  into  my  mammy's 
clothesline  in  the  dark  out  in  the  backyard  at  Waco, 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  79 

but  this  is  sure  the  first  time  I  ever  run  into  one  in 
the  Irish  Sea." 

It  was  Bilge's  turn  to  be  scornful. 

"  You  —  "  he  began ;  and  suddenly  the  power  of 
speech  departed  from  him  and  his  eyes  became  fixed 
and  staring.  A  thing  like  a  post,  standing  upright, 
had  appeared  between  them  and  moved  sluggishly 
past,  the  measured  rate  of  its  progress  producing 
a  very  slight  eddy  behind  it. 

"  For  the  love  of  Mike !  "  Bilge  breathed  solemnly 
as  the  upright  object  describing  a  lazy  arc  in  the 
water  slowly  passed  round  them. 

"  A  peeriscope !  "  decided  Ma.  "  Well,  I  ain't 
sorry.  I  been  kind  of  lookin'  for  a  tow  anyhow," 
and  he  demonstrated  at  once  the  imperturbability 
of  his  colossal  calm  and  the  volume  of  his  assurance 
by  throwing  a  loving  arm  about  the  "  peeriscope," 
succeeding  which  he  experienced  the  pleasant  sensa- 
tion of  being  drawn  slowly  through  the  water. 

"  Pinching  a  ride  on  a  submarine !  "  gasped  Bilge 
in  the  most  sincere  tribute  of  admiration  he  had 
ever  paid  to  Ma's  presence  of  mind. 

A  yard  or  so  behind  the  first  upright  there  ap- 
peared a  smaller  and  shorter  post,  and  to  this  Bilge 
with  a  vigorous  stroke  or  two  now  annexed 
himself. 

"  They  must  V  been  lyin'  on  the  bottom,  and 
comin'  up  his  jump  wire  fouled  my  feet,"  speculated 
Ma. 

"  Say,"  inquired  Bilge  awesomely  as  he  gazed 
toward  the  top  of  the  forward  post,  which  was  lost 
somewhere  above  him,  "  can  these  things  hear  and 
see  too?" 

"  I  don't  allow  they  can,"  decided  Ma  after  a 


80         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

moment  of  reflection;  "  and  as  long  as  we  keep  close 
they  cain't  see  us." 

"I'm  huggin'  her  like  I  do  that  black-eyed  girl 
up  on  the  hill,"  chuckled  Bilge,  rapidly  recovering 
his  own  self-possession. 

"  Strikes  me  kind  of  funny !  "  And  he  laughed 
nervously. 

"  It  shore  is !  "  chortled  Ma.  "  Oh,  if  Waco  could 
only  see  us  now !  " 

"  What  would  those  guys  down  below  say  if  they 
knew  we  were  taking  a  ride  on  'em?"  inquired 
Bilge,  still  fascinated  by  the  novelty  of  the  sit- 
uation. 

"  Look !  They're  circlin'  the  Tunaloa  and  drawin' 
in  closer,"  observed  Ma. 

"  Yeh !  They'll  put  us  off  at  the  bunker  port 
directly,"  suggested  Bilge  joyously. 

"I've  let  down.  I'm  standing  on  the  conning 
tower,"  said  Ma  presently. 

"  You  haven't  got  none  the  best  of  me.  I'm 
standing  on  one  too,"  reported  Bilge  triumphantly. 
"  What  do  you  figure  the  old  sea  serpent  is  doing?  " 

"  Oh,  I  allow  he's  got  his  suspicions  of  that  '  Q  ' 
boat,"  said  Ma  airily;  "  and  he's  goin'  to  give  him  a 
mighty  good  lookin'  over.  He'll  raise  directly, 
though,  if  them  boys  on  board  just  keeps  still  long 
enough." 

"  And  when  he  rises  what'll  you  do  ?  "  inquired 
Bilge  just  as  jubilantly  as  if  he  would  not  himself 
thereby  be  placed  in  the  same  delicate  and  embar- 
rassing position. 

"Why,  then,"  said  Ma  coolly,  "I'm  a-goin'  to 
get  me  a  Hun  prisoner  for  a  souvenir.  I  alius  have 
wanted  one  of  them  things  to  take  home." 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  81 

"  And  you  haven't  had  nothing  to  drink,  either," 
reproached  Bilge,  stifling  his  amazement. 

"  Nothing  but  about  two  quarts  of  Irish  Sea  when 
this  here  marine  clothesline  drug  me  under." 

"  How  you  figure  to  get  a  German?  "  Bilge  in- 
quired further,  when  Ma  had  relapsed  into  one  of 
his  dignified  silences. 

"  Easy  as  fiddlin',"  declared  Ma.  "  When  they 
open  this  hatch  for  a  good  look  at  close  quarters  I'm 
goin'  to  be  behind  it,  and  when  one  of  these  fellers 
comes  up  I'm  just  going  to  jujutsu  him  a  little  so 
he'll  be  nice  and  unconscious,  and  drag  him  off  into 
the  water  with  me.  We're  makin'  about  four  knots 
now,  and  that'll  carry  us  astern  so  that  when  the 
next  guy  comes  out  he'll  just  naturally  figure  that 
the  first  sausage  fell  overboard." 

"  Got  it  all  figured  out,  haven't  you,  Ma  ?  "  de- 
rided Bilge;  but  for  an  interval  thereafter  he  also 
was  thoughtful. 

"I'm  a-goin'  to  get  me  one  too,"  he  announced 
directly. 

"  Le's  don't  be  a  durned  hog,"  argued  Ma  more 
seriously  as  upon  further  excogitation  he  admitted 
to  himself  that  the  project  might  be  attended  with 
serious  difficulties.  "  Le's  get  just  one  together. 
We  can  manage  him  in  the  water  and  keep  him 
afloat  all  right  till  we  get  to  the  '  Q  '  with  him." 

While  the  two  men  talked  and  plotted  the  sub- 
marine had  swerved  in  sharply  till  she  was  no  more 
than  two  hundred  yards  from  the  wounded  Tunaloa, 
and  both  men  turned  their  eyes  upon  the  old  ship 
curiously. 

"Hell's  bells!  She's  afire!"  ejaculated  Bilge. 
"  I  can  see  smoke." 


82         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

Ma  withheld  comment  and  peered  intently. 

"I  cain't  see  smoke,"  he  announced  presently; 
"  and  you  couldn't  make  it  out  if  smoke  was  there." 

"I  smell  it,"  argued  Bilge.  "  That  old  pill 
landed  in  her  bunkers  and  it's  Jfcst  about  set  her  on 
fire." 

"II  it  is  they'll  have  to  break  cover  directly  to 
put  the  fire  out,"  regretted  Ma. 

"  They  will,  hey?  "  inquired  Bilge  a  trifle  fiercely. 
"  What's  the  matter  with  us  putting  that  fire  out. 
We  come  off  here  for  some  good  purpose,  didn't 
we  ?  The  minute  those  fellows  move  they  give  their 
snap  away ;  and  they  won't  do  it.  They'll  just  about 
burn  up  first." 

"  Come  on,"  said  Ma.  "  We're  on  the  starboard 
side  now." 

The  two  men  let  go  their  grip  upon  the  periscopes 
and  swam  swiftly  to  the  black  hull,  making  their 
way  to  the  open  bunker  port  at  about  the  time  when 
they  judged  the  submarine  would  be  well  out  of 
sight  on  the  port  side. 

"  I  can't  reach  it,"  muttered  Bilge  after  a  des- 
perate try,  but  by  further  violent  effort  he  managed 
to  get  one  set  of  fingers  on  the  ledge  of  the  open 
port,  and  by  taking  advantage  of  the  buoyancy  in 
Ma's  body  also,  he  got  a  full-hand  grip  and  a  mo- 
ment later  was  in  the  port. 

"  Jumping  beeswax!  "  he  cried  under  his  breath 
as,  standing  barefooted  in  the  slacked  coal  of  the 
bunker,  a  thousand  sharp  points  were  penetrating 
his  tender  soles.  Extending  a  helping  hand  to  Ma 
he  pulled  him  in  after,  and  a  moment  later  the  two 
men,  naked  except  for  the  thinnest  and  most  abbre- 
viated of  underwear,  stood  erect  in  the  bunker,  tak- 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  83 

ing  stock  of  the  situation,  while  little  rivulets  of 
water  trickled  clown  to  make  mud  of  the  dust  in 
which  their  feet  sank  ankle  deep. 

"  Hotter'n  Hades !  "  announced  Bilge,  sniffing. 
"Ouch!"  He  had* laid  an  incautiously  inquiring 
hand  on  the  steel  ceiling  above  him,  which  was  also 
the  steel  floor  of  the  upper  bunker.  "  Red  hot,  by- 
heck  !   Fire's  in  that  bunker  up  there." 

"  I  allowed  it  was/'  confessed  the  voice  of  Ma, 
sepulchral  in  the  confined  blackness  of  the  coal  hole. 
"  What  do  we  do  next  ?  "  he  inquired,  passing  up 
the  practical  question  to  Bilge. 

"  We  dig  our  way  into  the  engine  room,  bend  on 
a  line  of  steam  hose  and  put  the  fire  out." 

"  Would  there  be  steam?"  questioned  Ma.  "I 
heard  the  boilers  blowin'  off  when  we  was  rowin' 
away." 

"  Sure  you  did !  That  was  the  safety  valve ;  and 
as  soon  as  the  pressure  was  reduced  they  stopped 
blowing  off.  I  looked  at  the  gauges  last  thing,  and 
there  was  plenty  of  water  in  the  boilers  too." 

Groping  forward  in  the  darkness  they  came  to 
a  jagged  glowing  line  in  the  ceiling  above  them. 

Peering  up  through  the  crack  a  red  heart  of  fire 
was  discernible. 

"  That's  where  the  splinter  of  torpedo  went  up 
through  this  bunker  and  set  that  one  to  burning." 

"Wonder  it  didn't  set  something  afire  down 
below." 

"  Probably  did,  but  the  water  she  took  in  put  it 
out." 

"  My  God,  what  must  it  be  doin*  to  the  gun  crew, 
right  over  it !  "  said  Ma  solemnly.  "  It  ain't  so  far 
from  the  magazines,  neither." 


84         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  And  not  a  man  moving,"  commented  Bilge. 
"  You  know,  Ma,  you  got  to  have  respect  for  men 
like  that  —  men  that  ain't  afraid  of  nothing  —  men 
that'll  just  stick  there  and  let  their  bloomin'  heads 
be  blown  off,  but  what  they'll  '  carry  on/  as  these 
limeys  say.     Come !   We  got  to  be  quick." 

"  But  how  you  goin'  to  get  in  the  engine  room?  " 
objected  Ma.  "  I  don't  see  that  it's  done  we-all  any 
partickler  good  to  get  into  this  coal  cellar  that's  a 
hundred  and  fifty  degrees  hotter  than  any  place  I 
ever  been  in  my  life  before." 

"  Going  to  dig  in  through  the  stokehole  right 
here.    It's  somewhere  round." 

And  Bilge  feeling  his  way  forward  from  the  port 
groped  to  the  other  side  across  the  uneven  hills  and 
valleys  of  loose  coal. 

"  It's  somewhere  here,"  he  decided;  and  sinking  to 
his  knees  began  to  scratch  violently  at  the  coal, 
drawing  it  out  sometimes  in  lumps  and  sometimes 
in  soft  handfuls  of  slack  and  dust. 

"  Quick,  Ma !  "  he  urged.  "  We  got  to  paw  our 
way  through  four  feet  of  coal  at  least." 

"You're  chokin'  me,"  protested  Ma,  who  found 
himself  enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  dust. 

"  They're  just  about  burnin'  up  on  that  starboard 
waist  gun  deck,"  panted  Bilge ;  and  Ma,  who  despite 
protestations  had  groped  his  way  to  a  place  beside 
the  chief  machinist's  mate,  sank  to  his  knees  and 
began  feverishly  to  claw  back  the  coal  from  the 
opening. 

In  a  minute  the  place  was  full  of  suffocating, 
irritating  powder  that  worked  its  way  into  eyes, 
ears,  hair  and  the  pores  of  their  soaking  skins. 
This,  added  to  the  heat  from  the  fire  smoldering 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  85 

overhead,  served  to  make  the  situation  still  more 
unbearable,  but  the  two  scratched  on  frantically, 
letting  themselves  in  deeper  and  deeper,  and  then 
dragging  their  bodies  for  brief  intervals  to  the  open 
port,  where  they  hung  exhausted  on  the  sill  to  gulp 
in  reviving  breaths  of  outer  air. 

"  Hear  anything  from  up  above?  "  inquired  Bilge 
as  they  hung  over  the  sill. 

"  No,"  decided  Ma  after  a  listening  moment. 

"  Ain't  they  the  game  devils,  though !  "  admired 
Bilge.    "  See  anything  of  the  sub  ?  " 

"  See  ?  Say,  yo're  plumb  crazy,  Bilge !  My  eyes 
is  that  full  of  coal  dust  I  cain't  even  see  the  dark." 

So  they  returned  to  their  digging. 

"  Fve  found  the  stokehole,  all  right,"  reported 
Bilge,  reaching  down.     "  Keep  on  scrabbling  out." 

As  their  hole  deepened,  however,  they  had  to 
widen  it.  This  necessitated  more  yardage  exca- 
vated—  as  they  used  to  say  down  in  Panama  — 
and  more  pilgrimages  to  the  open  port. 

"  I  wisht  we  had  started  sooner,"  gasped  Ma. 
w  Them  boys  has  got  to  quit  up  there  before  we 
ever  get  our  chore  done  at  all,  and  that's  just  about 
goin'  to  break  their  hearts  —  Dick  Dorgan's 
especially." 

"  Has  old  Dick  got  the  starboard  gun?  "  inquired 
Bilge  anxiously.  "  Well,  then,  I'm  just  naturally 
going  to  dive  out  through  the  stokehole  this  time 
and  get  something  started." 

"  Lemme  go  first,"  argued  Ma  as  they  returned  to 
their  digging.     "  I'm  thinner'n  you." 

"  Nope !  You're  not  no  account  when  you  get 
out  there,  because  you're  a  boson  and  not  a  machin- 
ist.    I'm  the  one  that's  got  to  go  through  first. 


86         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

Maybe  we  haven't  got  time  to  let  you  out  at  all  yet, 
Ma." 

By  this  time  they  were  again  in  the  craterlike  dent 
they  had  made  in  the  coal,  leading  down  to  the  stoke 
spout,  through  which  bit  of  smothering  blackness 
it  was  Bilge's  proposal  now  to  crawl. 

"  I  can  see  out.  I  can  see  light  in  the  boiler 
room,"  he  announced  as  he  lowered  himself  head 
first,  worming  and  twisting  downward  and  forward 
at  the  same  time  that  he  tried  to  make  of  his  limbs 
and  body  a  barrier  for  the  sifting  streams  of  dust 
and  slack  which  in  the  darkness  continually  drifted 
down  upon  him. 

"  I'm  going  in,"  he  panted  back.  "  I  got  my 
hands  out  in  the  boiler  room  now.  Hully  gee! 
They're  in  water.  I'll  have  to  dive,  sure  enough. 
You  got  to  keep  the  coal  from  wedgin'  in  round  me, 
Ma,  so's  I  don't  get  stuck  in  the  hole  with  half  of 
me  in  and  half  of  me  out  and  my  head  under  water. 
Savvy?" 

"  I  savvy,"  declared  Ma  grimly,  who  had  worked 
down  to  a  position  where  his  body  was  cribbing 
back  the  coal  his  hands  were  pawing  out.  "  There, 
darn  you,  Bilge ;  I  always  did  want  to  kick  you  good 
and  plenty,  and  now  I  got  the  chance.  I  only  wish 
I  had  hobnailed  boots  on  instead  of  my  bare  and 
tender  feet." 

Bilge  chuckled  responsively.  "All  right!  So 
long !  "  he  called. 

It  may  not  be  written  that  his  head  disappeared, 
for  neither  had  been  able  to  glimpse  the  form  of  the 
other  in  this  abysmal  blackness;  but  the  sudden 
muffling  of  Bilge's  voice  indicated  that  he  had  in- 
serted his  head  and  shoulders  into  the  chute,  and 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  87 

Ma,  marking  by  the  sense  of  touch  the  progress  of 
his  comrade's  body,  eventually  applied  both  his  feet 
in  a  healthy  boost  downward  and  knew  as  the  flesh 
beneath  them  squirmed  and  yielded  that  Bilge  was 
making  headway.  Suddenly  there  was  nothing 
human  beneath  Ma's  feet,  and  an  interval  of  silence 
and  uncertainty  followed  that  to  the  boson's  mate 
was  very  long. 

"  All  right !  "  trumpeted  a  drowned  voice.  "  I've 
made  it.  You  keep  scrabblin'  the  coal  back,  because 
it  takes  a  bigger  hole  for  me  to  come  back  through 
with  the  tools." 

"Sure  thing,"  responded  Ma;  "  but  pass  me  a 
fan  and  a  glass  of  ice  water." 

Bilge,  however,  was  not  there  to  hear  this  par- 
ticular bit  of  airy  persiflage.  He  had  not  thought 
it  necessary  to  mention  to  Ma  that  he  had  found 
three  feet  of  water  in  the  boiler  rooms,  and  was  now 
making  his  way,  up  to  his  waist  in  a  filthy  fluid, 
through  the  tunnel  that  ran  between  the  boilers  to 
the  water-tight  door  leading  to  the  engine  room. 
To  open  that  door  would  let  a  flood  of  water  go 
streaming  over  its  sill,  but  the  engine  room  might 
as  well  flood  as  the  boiler  room  if  the  old  hooker 
was  to  burn  or  blow  up,  and  Bilge  boldly  undid  the 
door  and  stepped  over  through  a  pouring  Niagara. 
His  first  care  was  a  glance  at  the  steam  gauge. 

"  Thirty  pounds !  It's  enough,"  he  croaked  joy- 
ously, and  made  his  way  to  where  the  steam  hose 
was  kept.  It  would  be  a  long  stretch,  but  there 
was  enough  of  it,  he  decided,  and  began  swiftly  to 
couple  it  on.  He  next  located  a  nested  electric  light 
with  a  line  of  portable  cord  sufficient  to  carry  illu- 
mination from  the  boiler-room  plug  to  the  bunker, 


88         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

and  was  starting  back  when  the  sight  of  the  speaking 
tube  suggested  that  he  might  communicate  to  Cap- 
tain Bradshaw  that  succor  was  at  hand. 

The  captain  at  the  moment  was  in  a  most  painful 
state  of  suspense,  and  hesitating  between  one  form 
of  duty  and  another.  He  still  crouched  doggedly 
watching  the  sea  and  cursing  the  blanket  of  cloud 
that  swallowed  the  moon  completely,  while  Execu- 
tive Officer  Kirk  hovered  over  the  speaking  tubes, 
alternately  receiving  reports  and  pleading  with  his 
men  to  hold  out. 

"  You  smell  leather  burning?  "  inquired  the  voice 
of  Dorgan  from  his  starboard  waist  gun.  Kirk 
sniffed  doubtfully,  a  sniff  that  was  recorded  only  as 
silence  at  the  other  end  of  the  tube. 

"  That's  our  shoes/'  signified  Dorgan. 

"  Hold  out  a  little  longer,"  pleaded  Kirk. 

"  Tell  him  to  hold  out  for  fifteen  minutes  longer 
—  for  the  honor  of  the  American  Navy,"  said  Cap- 
tain Bradshaw  eagerly  to  Kirk,  and  his  own  lips 
were  so  close  to  the  tube  that  Dorgan  heard  it  direct. 

"  This  gun  crew'll  be  nothin'  but  cinders  in  fifteen 
minutes,"  he  reported  stolidly;  "  but  we'll  hold  out 
for  that.     Darn  us,  we'll  hold  out !  " 

"  On  the  bridge !     On  the  bridge !  " 

The  cry  echoed  hoarsely  from  the  mouth  of  one 
of  the  battery  of  speaking  tubes  into  the  confined 
space  where  the  captain  and  his  executive  officer 
stewed  in  their  own  anxiety.  Kirk  answered  the 
port-gun  tube. 

"Did  you  call?" 

"  No,  sir,"  came  the  sullen  voice  of  Abner  Ander- 
son, who  had  long  since  resigned  himself  to  a  hor- 
rible death. 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  89 

"On  the  bridge!  On  the  bridge!"  barked  the 
echo  impatiently. 

Kirk  looked  surprised.  The  voice  seemed  to 
issue  from  the  engine-room  tube.  But  there  was 
nobody  in  the  engine  room. 

"  On  the  bridge !  "  wailed  the  tube,  pleadingly  this 
time. 

Kirk,  his  voice  trembling  as  if  a  ghost  had  spoken 
to  him,  shouted  "  Bridge !  "  and  applied  his  ear  to 
the  engine-room  tube. 

"  Can  you  hold  out  ten  minutes,  sir?  " 

"  Who  are  you?  "  exclaimed  the  astonished  cap- 
tain, who  had  elbowed  Kirk  away  from  the  tube. 

"  Kennedy,  sir;  and  Ford." 

"  How  did  you  get  here  ?  " 

The  captain's  voice  blazed  out  wild  with  wrath 
and  anger  that  disobedience  to  orders  threatened  to 
force  the  surrender  of  the  project  in  the  very  mo- 
ment when  so  many  of  his  men  had  reached  the 
limit  of  suffering  to  make  it  good. 

"  Swum  over,  sir.  The  submarine  didn't  see  us, 
sir.     We  got  in  through  the  starboard  bunker  port." 

"  The  submarine  ?  "  exclaimed  the  captain  avidly. 

"  There's  one  about,  sir,"  reported  Kennedy. 
"  Ford  and  me  rode  over  on  it,  hanging  to  the  peri- 
scope, sir.  She's  circling  you  two  hundred  yards  off 
with  about  six  feet  of  periscope  showing  and  getting 
ready  to  come  up." 

"  Are  you  crazy  ?  " 

"  I  ain't  got  no  time  to  argue  that  now,  sir,"  said 
Kennedy,  but  with  tone  still  beseechingly  respectful. 
"  I  think  you'll  get  the  sub,  sir,  if  you  can  hold  out, 
for  she's  awful  curious.  She's  bound  to  broach 
soon  if  she  ain't  broaching  now." 


90         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"How  did  you  get  in  that  engine  room?"  de- 
manded the  captain,  still  outraged  by  this  unexpected 
presence. 

"  Dug  through  the  stokehole,  sir.  I'm  going  back 
now  with  a  line  of  hose.  We'll  have  live  steam  on 
that  fire  in  five  minutes.  At  first  the  decks  will  get 
hotter,  but  the  fire  will  be  killed,  and  I  thought  maybe 
if  you  could  hold  out,  sir,  fifteen  or  twenty  —  " 

Captain  Bradshaw  rather  choked  up  for  a  mo- 
ment, as  if  it  were  his  throat  and  not  Bilge's  that 
was  full  of  coal  dust. 

"  Hold  out  ?  Say !  We  can  hold  out  two  hours 
for  fellows  like  you.  Stop  jabbering  there  now,  and 
go  ahead !  " 

"  And  it  was  him  doing  all  the  jabbering,"  ex- 
plained Bilge  later.  "  I  just  wanted  to  let  him  know 
that  we  was  there  and  the  submarine  was  too." 

"  It's  those  two  wild  men,  Kennedy  and  Ford," 
Captain  Bradshaw  reported  to  Kirk  with  a  great 
gulp  in  his  voice.  "  They've  got  over  here  some- 
how and  they're  working  on  that  fire.  Tell  the  gun 
crews,  and  warn  them  that  the  submarine  is  still 
hanging  about  sure." 

Captain  Bradshaw  sank  into  his  normal  crouch 
again,  rather  overcome  by  a  reflex  of  unusual  emo- 
tions. 

"  I  could  go  through  hell  with  such  men,"  he 
murmured. 

But  Kirk  didn't  hear  this.  He  was  already  at 
the  speaking  tube  hustling  the  news  down  first  of  all 
to  Dorgan,  and  then  to  Abner  Anderson,  whose 
crew,  though  not  suffering  so  much  from  heat, 
were  all  but  suffocated  by  the  smoke  that  seeped  and 
purled  from  every  seam  beneath  them,  so  that  the 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  91 

men  bent  close  against  their  canvas  screen,  fanning 
themselves  and  fighting  for  every  breath  of  air  that 
they  could  gain. 

"Well,  whaddaya  think  of  that?"  rasped  Dor- 
gan  to  his  crew.  "  We  got  to  stay  here  now.  Them 
darned  nuts,  Bilge  and  Ma,  have  swum  back  here 
from  the  boats,  crawled  in  through  the  bunker  port 
and  are  putting  out  the  fire." 

"  It's  about  time,"  moaned  Jurgenson.  "  I'm  get- 
tin'  done  on  one  side.  Somebody's  got  to  turn  me, 
but  look  out  or  I'll  stick  to  the  frying  pan." 

"  We  got  to  stay  here  now  if  we  burn  to  crack- 
lin's,"  growled  Dorgan. 

"  I'm  cracklings  now,"  reported  Jimmie  Roser. 

"  Keep  shuffling,  everybody,"  ordered  Dorgan  in 
one  of  his  fiercest  stage  whispers.  "  First  one  foot 
down  and  then  the  other;  then  one  hand  —  " 

"As  if  we  hadn't  all  been  doing  that,"  said 
Jimmie,  who  was  a  nice  boy  and  seldom  trapped  into 
any  ungrammatical  form  of  expression,  even  by  the 
most  exciting  or  distressing  incidents. 

"  I've  danced  on  my  toes  and  on  my  heels  —  I've 
fox-trotted  a  million  miles  on  my  knees  and  elbows 
the  last  fifteen  minutes.     Ouch !  " 

Jimmie  in  his  writhings  had  rolled  the  side  of  his 
neck  against  a  brass  shell  case  as  it  stood  in  the 
ammunition  rack. 

"  My  Lord,  Dick ! "  he  exclaimed  to  Dorgan. 
"  Those  shells  are  getting  hot.  They're  liable  to 
explode." 

Dorgan  thrust  out  an  experimental  hand  and  drew 
it  back  quickly. 

"  Every  man  take  a  shell  in  his  arms  and  hold 
it,"  he  ordered. 


92         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

There  were  seven  men  in  the  crew;  there  were 
eight  shells  in  the  rack.  Dorgan  himself  took  two. 
The  outer  surfaces  were  so  hot  they  could  not  be 
retained  in  the  bare  hands  without  discomfort.  It 
was  necessary  to  pull  down  rolled-up  sleeves  and 
get  the  fabric  between  the  metal  and  the  bare  arms, 
and  then  to  keep  tossing  or  rolling  them  and  bring- 
ing fresh  surfaces  to  bear  all  the  time. 

And  so  the  men  of  the  starboard  crew  endured, 
for  the  sake  of  the  game  they  played,  minute  after 
minute,  stooping  low  in  their  canvas  housings,  danc- 
ing and  shuffling  noiselessly  to  keep  their  feet  from 
burning,  and  juggling  each  man  a  shell  in  his  arms, 
while  Dickie  Dorgan  juggled  two. 

Captain  Bradshaw  on  the  bridge  strained  his  eyes 
for  a  glimpse  of  the  submarine,  as  did  every  look- 
out, but  the  moon  continued  obdurate  and  unhelp- 
ful. A  thousand  shapes  that  might  have  been  peri- 
scopes flitted  ghostlike  across  the  blackened  waters, 
but  none  became  real  and  tangible.  And  as  the 
lookouts  strained  their  eyes  they  also  strained  their 
ears  for  a  sound  —  a  ripple  in  the  water  • —  a  slight 
splash  that  would  tell  of  seas  rolling  from  a  suddenly 
lifted  ledge  of  submarine  decking,  for  the  grate  of 
a  hatch  cover  when  it  opened  or  a  sound  of  guttural 
voices  —  anything  that  would  hint  the  direction  in 
which  the  submarine  was  lurking  and  help  them  to 
discern  that  shadowy  target. 

Kirk,  listening  at  the  hydrophone,  was  trying  for 
the  hundredth  time  to  pick  up  the  beat  of  her  pro- 
pellers, but  the  instrument  functioned  poorly  to- 
night. Now  it  brought  to  his  ears  only  a  confusion 
of  sound  and  a  faint  clink-clink-clink,  that  was  not 
in  the  least  like  the  beat  of  propellers. 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  93 

"  What  do  you  make  out,  captain?  "  he  said,  pass- 
ing the  earpiece  over. 

The  captain,  too,  caught  that  faint  clink-clink, 
and  he  recognized  it. 

l*  That's  Kennedy  and  Ford,"  he  said,  "  hammer- 
ing a  way  through  the  bottom  of  that  steel  bunker 
for  their  steam  nozzle.  They're  working  like 
demons,  and  probably  just  about  burning  themselves 
up.  They've  got  the  bunker  port  closed  to  keep  the 
sound  from  giving  us  away  to  the  submarine,  be- 
cause we  don't  hear  the  sound  from  outside,  which 
shows  they've  still  got  their  heads  about  'em.  Tell 
Dorgan  the  steam  will  be  on  the  fire  in  two  min- 
utes." 

Kirk  called  Dorgan  and  pleaded  with  him  to  hold 
out. 

"I'm  awfully  sorry  to  ask  it  of  you,"  said  *he 
exec.  "  I  can  smell  that  leather  burning  now  aH 
right." 

"  'Tain't  leather  this  time,"  replied  Dorgan. 
"  It's  us.  We  can  hold  out  a  spell,  but  tell  them 
birds  down  there  to  hurry." 

And  the  birds  below  were  hurrying.  In  the  dim 
glow  of  an  electric  light  a  tall  wiry  scarecrow  of  a 
man,  sweat-sopped  and  black  as  coal  from  head  to 
foot,  with  a  tousle  of  hair  hanging  about  his  eyes, 
stood  ramming  and  twisting  the  nozzle  of  the  steam 
hose  into  the  rip  the  torpedo  splinter  had  made  in 
the  steel  floor  of  the  upper  bunker.  The  atmosphere 
was  hotter  than  ever,  because,  as  Captain  Bradshaw 
had  divined,  Ma  had  closed  the  bunker  door  to  screen 
his  light  from  the  possible  view  of  the  submarine; 
and  while  he  worked  red-hot  coals,  large  and  small, 
sifted  down  upon  his  bare  hand  or  found  lodg- 


94         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

ment  in  his  hair,  in  the  angle  of  his  elbows  and  in 
the  sweating  hollows  about  his  shoulders  and 
clavicles. 

Bilge,  after  passing  the  nozzle  and  light  through 
the  stokehole  to  his  partner,  waded  back  through 
the  passage  between  the  boilers,  entered  the  engine 
room  once  more  and  turned  on  the  steam.  But 
despite  his  great  haste  he  did  this  very  gradually, 
having  regard  to  the  safety  of  his  comrade,  the  chief 
boson's  mate,  for  a  sudden  expansion  due  to  dis- 
charge of  steam  into  the  close  quarters  of  the  upper 
bunker  might  cause  a  sagging  downward  of  the 
breached  floor  and  precipitate  some  tons  of  glowing 
coals  upon  the  beloved  head  of  Ma. 

Ma  meanwhile  braced  himself  with  the  first  hiss 
into  +1.e  smouldering  mass  above  his  head,  leaning 
as  >ar  back  as  possible  from  the  trickling  line  of 
danger.  Instantly  a  dull  roar  broke  out  above  him, 
and  as  the  volume  of  steam  increased  the  volume  of 
this  roar  enlarged;  but  the  bunkers  kept  the  sound 
shut  tightly  in,  while  the  great  force  of  the  steam 
drove  its  watery  vapors  irresistibly  through  the 
bunker,  yard  by  yard,  swiftly  taming  the  confla- 
gration. 

But  it  is  the  nature  of  steam  that  it  passes  into 
vapor  and  the  vapor  condenses  into  water,  and  riv- 
ulets of  this  water,  scalding  hot,  came  questing  down 
the  nozzle,  over  the  layer  of  leather  which  enveloped 
it  to  protect  the  holding  hands,  and  on  to  the  naked 
flesh  of  Ma. 

"  Holy  Moses !  "  he  ejaculated,  and  involuntarily 
slacked  the  hold  of  one  hand  upon  the  nozzle  and 
shook  it,  repeating  the  process  with  the  other. 

Meanwhile  Bilge  was  again  at  the  speaking  tube 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  95 

in  the  engine  room  and  Captain  Bradshaw  answered 
his  call. 

"  The  steam  is  on  the  fire,  sir !  "  reported  Bilge. 

"  Thank  God !  "  said  Captain  Bradshaw  fervently. 
"  Are  you  sure  the  sub  —  " 

But  Bilge  was  gone,  carrying  a  section  of  jute 
matting  found  floating  in  the  engine-room  wash, 
for  he  had  foreseen  what  those  scalding  trickling 
streams  would  be  doing  to  the  unprotected  hands 
of  Ma. 

"  Steam's  on,"  reported  Kirk  to  Dorgan. 

"  Thank  God !  "  said  Dorgan  also,  and  added : 
"  The  nails  in  our  shoes  are  terrible  good  con- 
ductors." 

"If  only  now  —  "  muttered  Captain  Bradshaw; 
and  his  eyes  roved  again  to  the  darkened  circle  out- 
side the  ship,  when  a  sharp  crack  came  out  of  the 
blackness,  followed  by  a  thud  and  an  explosion  that 
sent  a  vibratory  thrill  through  the  entire  length  of 
the  Tunaloa.  For  an  instant,  too,  a  flash  of  light 
had  appeared. 

"  Submarine  firing  on  us  —  two  hundred  yards  — 
starboard  beam !  " 

"  Let  her  have  it !  "  shouted  Captain  Bradshaw 
to  the  bow  gun  in  the  monkey  house  above  him. 

But  Dorgan  had  seen  that  flash  as  quick  as  the 
captain,  and  with  a  few  turns  of  the  wheels  his  gun 
was  training  on  the  spot  just  as  the  searchlight  on 
the  monkey  house  unmasked  itself,  felt  about  on  the 
sea  for  a  moment  with  her  long  proboscis  of  light, 
and  then  spotted  with  steady  beam  the  conning  tow- 
ers, upper  works  and  a  goodly  section  of  the  decks  of 
a  submarine  well  up  above  the  surface  of  the  sea. 

Bang!  went  Dorgan's  gun. 


96         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

Bang!  went  bow  and  stern  guns  almost  together. 
Bang !  in  a  moment  from  Dorgan's  gun  again,  while 
the  bow  and  stern  guns  followed,  all  three  pouring 
shot  after  shot  into  this  generous  target  at  a  point- 
blank  range. 

The  underwater  craft  was  so  surprised  and  over- 
whelmed that  she  returned  but  one  answering  futile 
shot,  and  thereafter  afforded  only  a  sort  of  moving 
picture  of  men  staggering  back  from  their  gun, 
scuttling  for  open  hatches,  and  of  conning  towers 
that  shivered  and  reeled  under  the  impact  of  shell  on 
shell  until  abruptly  an  explosion  came,  when  the 
watchers  on  the  Tunaloa  saw  their  victim  tear  apart, 
heave  up  in  the  center  and  go  down  in  two  pieces, 
with  jagged  ends  of  metal  and  various  protruding 
entrails  of  a  submarine  hanging  in  the  light  for  a 
moment  and  then  settling  beneath  the  black  agitated 
waters. 

A  hoarse  cheer  of  victory  broke  from  the  parched 
throats  on  the  "  Q  "  boat  as  Dorgan  and  his  men 
leaped  from  their  gun  station  to  seek  cooler  spots 
along  the  deck,  or  pulling  off  their  scorching  shoes 
rushed  for  the  water  taps.  Captain  Bradshaw 
left  the  bridge  and  came  tearing  down  among  them. 
Dorgan's  crew  saw  him  coming  and  stood  at 
attention. 

"  Good  work !  Wonderful  work,  men !  "  the  cap- 
tain exclaimed,  and  for  a  moment  was  stiff  and 
straight,  returning  their  salute. 

"  But  for  heaven's  sake,  look  after  yourselves ! 
Here,  surgeon!     Give  their  feet  instant  attention." 

Captain  Bradshaw  stepped  to  the  side  and  stood 
again  watching  intently  the  turmoil  in  the  water 
where  the  U-boat  had  gone  threshing  to  her  death. 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  97 

Marvelous  as  it  seemed  that  anything  could  live 
under  such  a  fire  and  through  such  an  explosion  as 
had  just  torn  the  submarine  apart,  some  human 
forms  appeared,  struggling  in  the  water. 

"  Get  a  boat  out  quick,  and  pick  those  fellows 
up !  "  ordered  the  captain. 

There  was  a  rush  for  the  falls  and  for  the  single 
remaining  boat,  which  was  the  one  that  had  dangled 
dramatically  and  alone. 

Launching  it  proved  difficult,  and  the  gun  crew 
were  not  so  expert  at  getting  boats  away  as  they 
had  been  at  smashing  the  submarine  with  shell  fire. 
Eventually,  however,  they  got  the  boat  into  the 
water,  and  with  this  concern  off  his  mind  the  cap- 
tain bethought  him  suddenly  of  something  else  and 
dashed  toward  the  engine  room.  He  found  it  a 
wreck.  That  first  single  effective  shell  of  the  sub- 
marine had  struck  there  and  exploded. 

With  misgivings  in  his  breast  the  captain  was 
hurrying  downward  on  a  twisted  and  trembling  lad- 
der when  two  wretched-looking  nondescripts  ap- 
peared, wading  in  from  the  boiler  room. 

They  were  nearly  as  naked  as  when  they  were 
born  and  were  coated  with  slime  to  the  water's  edge, 
the  only  exposed  parts  of  their  bodies  which  were 
not  black  being  the  hands  and  arms  that  had  been 
washed  and  reddened  by  the  drip  of  scalding  water 
from  the  steam  nozzle.  Their  bedraggled  and  soot- 
soaked  hair  hung  down  over  their  foreheads  in  a 
dejected  fringe,  through  which  eyes  popped  out  in 
startled  surprise  at  the  sight  of  the  captain. 

Instinctively  the  two  saluted. 

"  Fire's  almost  out,  sir,"  reported  Bilge.  "  We'd 
have  had  it  all  out,  sir,  but  the  steam  went  back  on 


98         The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

us  just  now.  Wha-what !  "  And  Bilge  suddenly 
recognized  what  the  captain's  presence  there 
must  mean.  "  You  —  you  quit !  "  he  reproached. 
"  What'd  you  quit  for?  Those  gunners  could  'a' 
held  out  a  while  longer." 

"  'Pears  like  we-all  burned  ourselves  up  for 
nothing  Bilge,"  remarked  Ma  dejectedly,  holding 
up  his  red  and  scalded  hands  and  gazing  at  them 
reflectively;  and  the  volume  of  reproach  which  had 
been  in  Bilge's  tones  was  as  nothing  to  the  oceans 
of  it  in  Ma's.  "  Them  gunners  must  'a'  laid  down 
on  you,  captain." 

For  a  moment  Captain  Bradshaw  was  indig- 
nant and  resentful,  and  then  the  truth  dawned  on 
him. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  didn't  hear?  "  he  in- 
quired. 

"  Couldn't  hear  nothing,  captain,  in  that  bunker 
with  the  steam  roaring  and  bellowing  above  our 
heads  —  nothing !  But  say  " —  and  Bilge  stared 
about  him — "  it  looks  like  something  happened  in 
here  since  I  went  back  to  the  bunker." 

"  We  got  the  submarine,"  assured  Captain  Brad- 
shaw joyously. 

"  Got  her?"  asked  Bilge,  dazed  and  wondering. 
"  How?    When?" 

"  Just  now.    Blew  her  all  to  pieces." 

"  Well,  I'm  gummed !  "  confessed  Bilge,  groping 
for  the  ladder. 

"  Couldn't  hear  nothin'  at  all  in  that  bunker," 
insisted  Ma  stubbornly. 

"  The  submarine  must  have  been  lying  round  for 
an  hour,  too  cautious  to  board  us  and  too  curious 
to  go  away,"  explained  the  captain.     "  I  suppose 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  99 

she  didn't  want  to  shell  us  and  give  warning  of  her 
presence  and  position.  Probably  lying  for  the  mail 
boat.  But  at  last  she  let  us  have  a  shell.  Looks 
as  if  it  landed  here/' 

"  That's  what  went  wrong  with  our  steam  pres- 
sure all  at  once,"  accounted  Bilge. 

"  Our  boys  fell  on  her  like  a  volcano,"  concluded 
the  captain.  "  Shot  her  all  to  pieces  and  she  blew 
up.  You  fellows  saved  us.  But  for  you  we  should 
have  had  to  give  up  and  we  shouldn't  have  got 
the  sub  at  all." 

"  Got  the  sub?  "  echoed  Ma  querulously,  as  if  the 
idea  of  a  whole  climactic  series  of  events  taking 
place  within  the  last  few  minutes  without  his  ken 
was  quite  impossible. 

"  Yes,"  assured  the  captain,  amused  at  such  in- 
credulity. "  A  boat's  crew  is  now  out  looking  for 
survivors." 

This  connected  up  with  another  idea  still  eddying 
round  in  Ma's  dizzy  mind! 

"  That  reminds  me,"  he  said  weakly  to  Bilge,  like 
a  man  waking  out  of  a  delirium;  "  we  was  goin'  to 
get  us  a  Hun  off  that  boat.     We  was  —  " 

Ma's  voice  trailed  off  into  nothingness,  and  wab- 
bling somewhat  womanishly  on  her  legs  the  old  girl 
just  crumpled  up  and  sat  down,  done  up  completely. 
Bilge  reached  for  his  friend,  but  was  himself  too 
weak  to  stay  the  fall,  and  with  a  tired  gasp  Ma  dis- 
appeared beneath  the  surface  of  the  water  on  the 
engine-room  floor. 

Captain  Bradshaw  leaped  past  Bilge,  felt  about 
for  a  moment  in  the  black  flood,  lifted  the  limp 
figure  of  Ma  and  threw  him  coughing  and  splutter- 
ing desperately  over  his  shoulder. 


100       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  Can  you  get  up  alone,  Kennedy?  "  he  inquired. 
"  You  fellows  must  have  worked  to  complete  ex- 
haustion." 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  can  get  up.  Old  Ma's  burned  some, 
I  got  a  suspicion,  though  he  hasn't  more  than  ad- 
mitted it  to  me." 

The  captain  carried  the  dripping,  fainting  form 
of  Ford  to  the  open  space  on  the  deck  abaft  the 
bridge,  and  turned  him  over  to  the  ship's  surgeon; 
but  Ma  was  already  conscious  and  covered  with  con- 
fusion when  he  found  his  soiled  and  dish-rag  frame 
being  tenderly  lowered  to  the  deck  in  the  arms  of 
the  captain  of  the  ship. 

"  Look  after  this  man,  too,  Eckert,"  said  the 
captain,  pointing  to  Kennedy.  "  They're  half  suf- 
focated, and  both  burned,  I  suspect." 

The  captain  turned  away  to  watch  the  raising  of 
the  boat,  which  was  now  coming  up  the  falls  amid 
shouts  and  jeers. 

"  One  survivor!  "  sang  out  a  voice,  and  Ma,  still 
prostrate  on  the  deck,  with  his  head  in  Bilge's  lap 
and  the  chief  pharmacist's  mate  coddling  him  with 
brandy  while  the  surgeon  applied  picric  acid  to  his 
burns,  heard  it. 

"  Is  this  yere  a  dead  survivor  or  a  live  one?  "  he 
inquired,  half  sitting  up. 

A  laugh  ran  round  the  deck. 

"  A  live  one !  "  exulted  the  captain. 

"  Bring  'im  here !  Bring  'im  here !  I  want  to 
set  my  eyes  on  him,"  demanded  Ma.  "  I  was  a-goin' 
to  get  me  a  Hun  myself  off  that  boat,  but  I  had  to 
knock  off  and  do  something  else." 

The  whole  ship  was  in  a  mind  to  humor  Ma,  and 
they  brought  to  him  presently  a  fat-faced,  sodden, 


Bilge  and  the  "Q"  Boat  101 

graceless  figure  of  a  man  with  suspicious  eyes, 
pursed  lips  and  a  frown  of  stubborn  defiance. 

"  Bring  him  close,"  said  Ma.  "  I  want  to  see 
what  one  of  these  yere  submarine  hounds  is  like 
anyway."  The  chief  boson's  mate  lifted  himself  on 
one  elbow  and  stared  at  the  fellow  interestedly  until 
suddenly  a  light  of  recognition  broke  on  his  face. 

"Gosht  almighty!"  he  gasped.  "If  it  ain't 
Dutchy,  the  butcher's  boy  from  Waco!  Ain't  you 
ashamed  of  yourself,  Dutchy?  Ain't  you,  now? 
A-goin'  about  torpedoin'  unarmed  ships  and  mur- 
derin'  women  and  children  and  little  babies  ?  " 

Ma's  small  dark  eyes  bored  into  the  blue  impudent 
ones  of  the  prisoner,  but  the  blue  eyes  refused  any 
look  of  recognition,  and  they  gave  back  to  Ma  his 
stare,  accompanying  it  with  a  disdainful  curl  of  the 

Hp. 

"Ain't  you,  now?"  he  demanded  incredulously. 
"  No !  No,  you  ain't,"  he  decided  after  a  minute. 
"  I  remember,  now,  you  was  always  a-pesterin'  and 
torturin'  things,  tyin'  cans  to  dogs'  tails,  stickin* 
pins  in  horses  to  make  'em  jump,  'stonin'  cats  and 
chickens,  and  makin'  everything  unhappy  generally. 
And  once  you  cut  my  pa's  cow's  tail  off,  just  because 
she  chased  you  when  you  was  teasin'  her  calf. 
Didn't  you,  Dutchy  ?  And  I  licked  time  out  of  you 
for  that,  didn't  I,  Dutchy?  " 

"  Take  him  away ! "  said  Captain  Bradshaw 
shortly. 

So  they  took  Dutchy  away  and  left  Ma  to  be 
assisted  to  his  feet  and  escorted  below,  where  with 
water  to  wash  him  clean  and  broth  for  his  inner 
man  they  sought  to  make  him  comfortable,  while 
the  boats  in  the  panic  party  were  returning  and  being 


10&       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

hauled  squeakily  up  the  davits.  Next  day  a  tug 
towed  the  Tunaloa  back  inside  the  harbor  and  Ma 
and  Bilge  were  among  those  on  deck  and  picking 
up  familiar  sights  along  the  quay,  where  Mrs.  Mur- 
phy, godmother  of  the  Judson's  enlisted  men,  was 
vigorously  waving  a  tablecloth  by  way  of  welcome 
home  from  their  brief  but  eventful  trip. 

"  I  don't  want  no  more  cruises  in  a  '  Q  '  boat," 
said  Ma. 

"Me  neither,"  decided  Bilge.  "I  wouldn't  'a' 
gone  on  this  one  if  you  hadn't  schemed  and  got  me 
into  it." 

"  Me  ?  "  inquired  Ma  with  a  hurt  look  on  her 
placid  patient  features. 

"Yes,  you!" 

And  the  two  stared  at  each  other  with  looks  of 
mutual  reproach  and  recrimination. 


Ill 

KIDNAPING  CUPID 

When  Capt.  Woodes  Rogers  set  sail  from  Hull, 
England,  in  1708,  on  that  memorable  privateering 
expedition  to  the  South  Seas  in  the  course  of  which 
he  rescued  Alexander  Selkirk  from  his  desert  isle 
and  thus  gave  Robinson  Crusoe  to  fiction  and  to 
fame,  his  first  outward-bound  stop  was  made  at  an 
Irish  port  to  careen  his  ships,  to  tallow  their  bot- 
toms and  to  attend  to  certain  other  slight  refittings. 
After  continuing  on  his  journey  that  observing  nav- 
igator noted  in  his  diary  the  "  strange  behavior  of 
our  men  there,  that  they  were  continually  marrying 
whilst  we  staid  there.,, 

Two  hundred  and  ten  years  later  a  commander  of 
an  American  destroyer  flotilla  has  had  occasion  to 
base  his  ships  at  a  port  in  this  same  land,  and  he, 
too,  has  remarked  a  strange  flowering  of  the  conju- 
gal spirit.  His  men  display  a  penchant  for  marry- 
ing. This  fact  has  occasioned  the  commander  some 
annoyance,  and  has  been  prolific  of  anxiety,  embar- 
rassment and  regret  to  fathers  and  mothers  on  both 
sides  of  the  Atlantic.  In  consequence,  advisers  of 
many  sorts  and  degrees  —  spiritual,  official,  diplo- 
matic and  personal-friend  advisers  —  have  inter- 
vened or  sought  to  intervene  when  symptoms  of  an 
outbreak  of  matrimonial  contagion  manifested 
themselves  in  any  particular  individual. 

When  rumor  had  it  that  Little  Benny  Riley,  first- 
class  yeoman  on  the  United  States  Destroyer  Judson, 


104       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

was  about  to  perpetrate  one  of  these  international 
entanglements,  his  shipmates,  Bilge  Kennedy  and 
Ma  Ford,  both  set  out  to  erect  barbed  wire  across 
the  pathway  to  connubial  bliss. 

"  We  just  naturally  got  to  save  Benny  from  him- 
self," averred  Bilge,  looking  up  from  tinkering  the 
engine  of  the  motor  dory. 

"  Benny  is  a  trustin',  confidin'  little  lamb  of  a 
yeoman  that  any  schemin'  damsel  could  pull  the 
wool  over  his  eyes  without  half  tryin',"  agreed  Ma, 
who  leaned  against  the  gunwale  where  the  dory 
swung  upon  the  davits  ready  to  be  lowered  to  the 
placid  waters  of  the  bay  the  moment  Bilge  should 
pronounce  her  fit. 

"  'Course,"  considered  Bilge,  feeling  for  the  mon- 
key wrench  upon  the  thwart,  "  she  might  be  in  love 
with  him,  you  know.  Benny's  got  those  soft  brown 
eyes,  and  a  smooth  face  with  rosy  cheeks.  Benny's 
kind  of  like  a  girl  himself,  and  he's  the  kind  you'd 
think  a  girl  might  fall  in  love  with." 

"  Nope !  "  dissented  Ma,  from  heights  of  wisdom 
and  experience  represented  by  his  twenty-seven 
years,  most  of  which  had  been  spent  upon  the  plains 
of  his  native  Texas.  "  Nope !  When  a  gal  falls  in 
love  she  don't  pick  her  own  sort.  She's  more'n 
likely  to  pin  her  buddin'  affections  to  some  red- 
headed, toggle- jointed  mistake  like  you,  Bilge." 

"  Or  some  moth-eaten  old  piece  of  human  camou- 
flage like  you !  "  retorted  Bilge  a  trifle  heatedly. 

"  Women  have  fell  in  love  with  me,"  boasted  Ma 
laconically,  and  though  the  straight  lips  sealed  them- 
selves tight  the  patient  gray  eyes  were  fixed  on  dis- 
tance with  a  reminiscent  light  as  suggesting  that  his 
mind  went  back  in  doting  memory  to  conquests  that 


Kidnaping  Cupid  105 

his  heart  had  made  in  those  happy  days  when  the 
world  was  not  at  war  and  he  was  not  boson's  mate 
on  a  destroyer,  with  his  placidity  of  temperament 
and  benignity  of  expression  earning  for  him  the 
ridiculous  feminine  monaker  of  Ma. 

"  But  no,  Bilge,  le's  don't  git  to  quarrelin'  with 
one  'nother  now,"  he  resumed  presently.  "  We  ain't 
got  time.  Benny's  just  his  mother's  little  boy,  and 
when  she  give  him  to  the  Navy  she's  got  a  right  to 
have  him  pertected  from  these  here  sirens  that  in- 
fests this  port.  I'm  a-goin'  ashore  and  talk  to  this 
girl." 

"You?" 

"  I'm  a-goin'  to  reason  with  her.  I'll  say,  '  Now 
look  yere,  little  lady.  This  boy  Benny's  a  nice  boy. 
He's  got  a  pa  and  a  ma  at  home  and  they're  com- 
fortable. They  got  a  hundred  thousand  dollars; 
that's  enough  for  Benny  to  marry  some  nice  little 
Brooklyn  stenographer  and  be  happy  ever  after. 
What  you  want  to  go  buttin'  in  and  spile  it  all 
for?"' 

"  For  the  hundred  thousand  dollars,  you  mutt !  " 
derided  Bilge.  "  No,  that's  not  the  way  to  talk  to 
her.  Tell  her  Benny  is  poor  —  that  this  stuff  about 
him  havin'  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  is  just  plain 
American  bull.  Tell  her  Benny  is  no  good.  Say 
he's  just  naturally  the  slickest  thing  about  calico 
since  King  Solomon  drove  the  snakes  out  of  Ire- 
land. Tell  her  Benny's  got  a  wife  in  Liverpool  and 
two  in  Brest." 

"  Looka  yere,  Bilge !  "  —  and  Ma's  eyes  blazed 
with  a  light  of  reproach  and  reproof  —  "I  won't  do 
no  such  a  thing!  You're  nothin'  but  just  a  plain 
low-down  character  assassin's  what  you  are." 


106        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  Tell  you,  Ma,"  said  Bilge,  enthusiasm  undashed 
by  such  rebuke,  and  growing  more  enamored  of  his 
own  ideas  every  moment,  "  you  go  ashore  and  talk 
to  her  mother.  I'll  reason  with  the  girl.  Between 
us  we'll  protect  Benny.  If  worst  seems  about  to 
come  to  worst,  we  can  kidnap  him." 

Ma  deliberated. 

"  I  ain't  never  done  myse'f  much  good,  so  fur  as 
I  can  remember,  a-messin'  in  other  folks'  affairs," 
he  reflected.  "  As  for  talkin'  to  her  mother,  I  ain't 
got  no  idea  of  doin'  such.  You  talk  to  her  mother 
and  I'll  palaver  with  the  girl." 

Upon  this  point  Ma  remained  entirely  obdurate, 
and  when  the  "  Old  Girl,"  as  his  shipmates  lovingly 
called  him,  had  finally  and  definitely  set  his  foot 
down  one  might  as  well  cease,  desist  and  quit, 
thereby  saving  breath.  It  was  while  Bilge  still  con- 
templated in  a  baffled  sort  of  way  this  unreasoning 
stubbornness  of  the  boson's  mate's  resolution  that 
Jimmie  Jurgenson  came  breezing  up  from  C.  P.  O. 
quarters  below  —  in  which,  by  the  way,  he  did 
not  belong  —  bursting  with  a  choice  piece  of  deep- 
water  scandal. 

"  You  know  Benny  ?  "  he  inquired  breathlessly ; 
also  idiotically,  since  every  man  on  the  ship  knew 
the  little  yeoman  and  knew  him  well  and  favorably. 

"  Know  him?"  The  habitually  phlegmatic  Ma 
bored  Jimmie  through  with  a  glance  of  censure. 
"What's  distressin'  you,  Jimmie?  Bark  it  out. 
Relieve  yo'se'f,  as  it  were!  " 

"  He's  goin'  to  be  married  to-night,"  whispered 
Jimmie  excitedly. 

"  Married  ?  Who  tuh  ?  "  It  was  Bilge  who  put  the 
question,  with  a  deceptive  carelessness  in  his  tone. 


Kidnaping  Cupid  107 

"  Minnie  O'Mahony !  "  answered  Jimmie. 

To  get  the  full  tonal  value  of  this  very  common 
name  as  it  is  pronounced  in  the  Irish  ports  one  puts 
the  accent  on  the  second  syllable  instead  of  the  third, 
and  makes  this  "  a "  sound  exceeding  short,  as 
short  for  instance  as  the  "  a "  in  "  mash/'  thus : 
O'-Ma'-ho-ny.  So  accentuated  it  falls  from  the  na- 
tive lips  in  a  thrilling  concatenation  of  consonants, 
with  negligible  nuances  of  voweling  in  between  — 
"  Minnie  O'Mahony !  "  pronounced  trippingly  upon 
the  tongue. 

"  So  that's  the  girl,"  the  eyes  of  Ma  and  Bilge  said 
to  each  other. 

"  Sounds  like  a  right  Irish  kind  of  name,"  ob- 
served Ma  to  Jimmie. 

"  Irish?  "  giggled  the  ship's  chatterbox.  "  What'd 
you  think  she  was  —  a  Polak?  " 

"  What  kind  of  a  girl?  "  inquired  Bilge,  now  with 
a  grave  air. 

"  Some  peacherino !  "  averred  Jimmie,  grinning 
extravagantly. 

"  How's  her  teeth  ?  "  Ma  wanted  to  know. 

That  question  was  inevitable.  The  water  does 
something  to  the  teeth  over  here.  In  numbers  of 
mouths  on  this  coast  teeth  are  only  a  tradition. 
They  have  begun  to  go  almost  before  womanhood 
blooms.  The  stock  retort  of  Jackie  to  twittings 
about  his  girl's  teeth  is  "  Perfect!  Both  of  'em!  " 

"Beautiful!"  insisted  Jimmie  recklessly. 

"  Then  they're  false,"  deduced  Bilge. 

"  They  are,"  admitted  Jimmie.  "  Benny  gave  'em 
to  her."  And  with  a  grimace  he  flitted  on  to  peddle 
from  end  to  end  of  the  Judson  the  shocking  news  of 
Benny's  impending  nuptials. 


108       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  What  do  you  know  about  that?  "  demanded  Ma 
with  a  curl  of  his  thin  lip.  "  Givin'  your  sweetheart 
a  set  of  teeth  for  a  weddin'  present !  " 

"  She's  probably  old,"  decided  Bilge.  "  Ma,  we 
got  to  get  busy.  Curfew  must  not  ring  to-night  for 
Little  Benny  Riley.  Curfew  absitively  must  not 
ring!" 

"  What  must  be  did  must  be  did  quick,"  declared 
Ma  with  rocklike  firmness  of  purpose,  and  hurried 
below  to  shift  from  dungarees  to  his  natty  sailor 
blues,  and  to  apply  a  razor  to  his  face.  When  he 
came  on  deck  half  an  hour  later  Ma  was  quite  an 
attractive-looking  person. 

"  I'll  go  ashore  and  see  the  girl,"  he  observed  with 
rare  self-satisfaction  to  Bilge,  who  was  compelled 
by  duty  to  stay  aboard  till  four. 

"Wait  an  hour,  Ma,  and  I'll  be  with  you,"  the 
machinist's  mate  pleaded  coaxingly. 

"  I'll  have  it  all  fixed  up  in  an  hour,"  boasted  Ma. 

"  You'll  likely  have  it  all  messed  up  in  an  hour 
so's  Benny  will  marry  the  girl,  and  you  and  me 
will  have  to  marry  her  sisters  or  her  aunts  or  grand- 
mothers or  something  to  square  it,  is  about  what 
you'll  do,"  retorted  Bilge  in  discouraged  tones. 

But  Ma  smiled  confidently,  and  with  his  flat  navy 
hat  listed  jauntily  to  port  he  joined  the  liberty  party 
in  the  motor  sailer  and  in  due  time  was  planted  "  on 
the  beach,"  where  certain  misgivings  promptly  over- 
took the  boson's  mate.  For  one  thing  he  was  alone. 
Ma  generally  had  Bilge  with  him  for  comfort  and 
support.  For  another  thing  he  was  about  to  inter- 
view, upon  a  most  delicate  errand,  a  young  lady  per- 
sonally unknown  to  him  but  of  whose  charms  and 
wit  he  had  heard  extravagantly  from  one  who  should 


Kidnaping  Cupid  109 

have  been  the  best  informed  person  in  the  world 
upon  the  subject,  namely,  First-Class  Yeoman  Ben- 
jamin Riley.  The  mere  interview,  therefore,  prom- 
ised difficulties  for  Ma,  who  though  endowed  with 
all  the  native  gallantry  of  the  true  Texan  and  with 
certain  memories  of  certain  conquests  behind  him, 
to  which  reference  has  already  been  made,  was 
nevertheless  a  trifle  gun-shy  where  the  other  sex  was 
concerned. 

To  be  able  to  exchange  frothy  persiflage  with  a  bar- 
maid and  feel  at  ease  during  the  process  was  about 
as  far  as  Ma's  social  achievements  had  extended  in 
this  port.  And  speaking  of  barmaids,  yonder  was 
the  New  York  Bar  now,  with,  standing  at  the  door 
invitingly,  Phyllis  Ryan,  just  the  sweetest  barmaid 
of  them  all  —  with  rosy  cheeks,  with  witching  eyes 
and  most  alluring  smile.  There  was,  moreover, 
something  attractive  and  restful  about  Phyllis'  place. 
Phyllis'  place !  That  was  one  big  advantage  the  trade 
in  tempestuous  liquors  here  had  over  the  same  trade 
at  home.  At  home  it  was  "  Joe's  place  "  or  "  Nick's 
place."  Here  it  could  be  "  Phyllis'  place  " ;  and  hers 
was  such  a  nice,  clean,  quiet  little  nook,  on  a  tiny 
square  off  the  main  current  of  the  beach  thorough- 
fare! 

The  bar  was  plain  deal  but  scoured  until  it  shone 
like  grained  mahogany,  and  there  behind  it  would 
be  Phyllis  with  her  cheeks  scrubbed  until  they  shone 
like  an  Idaho  apple,  while  round  at  the  end  of  the 
bar  was  a  sort  of  window  seat  with  a  table  in  front 
of  it,  and  when  trade  was  dull  Phyllis  used  to  serve 
Ma  there  and  in  neighborly  curious  fashion  sit  be- 
side him  and  ask  questions  about  America.  And 
Ma  had  an  idea  that  at  such  times  he  might  have 


110        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

put  a  comradely  arm  round  Phyllis  while  he  sipped 
his  grape  juice,  only  his  maidenly  diffidence  had 
always  kept  him  back  from  finding  out. 

Now,  therefore,  it  was  hardly  strange  that  Ma 
should  point  first  for  the  New  York  Bar  and  his 
favorite  window  seat. 

"  Miss  Phyllis,  do  you-all  know  this  here  Minnie 
O'Mahony  ?  "  he  inquired  when  the  half -emptied 
glass  before  him  seemed  to  betoken  that  the  time 
had  come  for  gossip  and  mayhap  for  confidence. 

"  I  do  that !  "  said  Phyllis  enthusiastically. 

"  Where's  she  live  ?  "  This  question  was  calcu- 
latedly  put  with  dulled  eye  and  simulations  of  casual 
indifference. 

"  Up  the  hill  halfway  of  the  block,  two  turns  in 
on  the  court  and  one  door  beyant  Mrs.  Connelly's 
tobacco  shop,"  answered  Phyllis  with  the  habitual 
glibness  of  her  sex  and  race. 

"  She's  schemin'  to  marry  Little  Benny  Riley," 
observed  Ma  tentatively. 

"  And  there's  never  a  sweeter  girl  in  all  Ireland; 
nor  one  that  would  make  a  better  wife!  " 

The  heartiness  of  this  assurance  was  slightly  dis- 
concerting to  Ma. 

"Is  that  all  the  comfort  you  got  to  give  me?"  he 
asked  reproachfully. 

"  Comfort,  is  it?  "  laughed  Phyllis. 

"  She's  got  false  teeth,"  accused  Ma. 

"  'Tis  a  lie !  "  Phyllis  was  direct  to  a  fault. 

"  Little  Benny  gave  'em  to  her." 

"  The  good  God  gave  them  to  her,"  affirmed 
Phyllis,  crossing  herself.  "  Sure,  they're  as  sound 
as  my  own."  And  she  exhibited  to  Ma  at  dazzling 
closeness  of  range  a  pair  of  teeth  that  were  noto- 


Kidnaping  Cupid  111 

riously  among  the  prettiest  and  most  perfect  sur- 
vivals anywhere  on  the  beach. 

"  You  got  me  bluffed,  Phyllis,"  said  Ma,  backing 
off.  "  I  ain't  even  got  the  nerve  to  press  them  ruby 
lips  of  yours  to  mine." 

Phyllis  laughed  and  tossed  her  head  gayly.  These 
Yankee  sailors  were  such  jokers,  all. 

"  Faith,"  she  declared,  "  and  if  ever  ye'd  try  it 
once  'twould  be  a  holy  box  on  the  ear  ye'd  get  that 
would  still  be  ringin'  when  ye  got  home  to 
America." 

There  was  something  in  the  firm  tone  of  Phyllis' 
utterance  and  in  the  snap  she  gave  her  chin  that 
caused  Ma  to  congratulate  himself  that  he  never 
had  tried  it. 

"  Don't  le's  quarrel,  Miss  Phyllis,"  he  pleaded. 
"  I  ain't  got  the  heart  for  it.  I  come  to  you,  Miss 
Phyllis,  for  advice.  I'm  a  committee  of  one  to 
keep  this  here  schemin'  Minnie  O'Mahony  from  com- 
mittin'  matrimony  upon  the  person  of  one  helpless 
American  sailorman,  to  wit,  Little  Benny  Riley ;  and 
I  need  help!" 

Phyllis  threw  back  her  head  and  laughed  hila- 
riously. "  Mrs.  O'Mahony !  "  she  screamed.  "  Mrs. 
O'Mahony!" 

Ma  looked  disturbed.  It  seemed  as  if  the  girl 
were  bent  on  calling  Mrs.  O'Mahony  down  from  her 
house  halfway  up  the  hill,  two  turns  in  on  the  court, 
and  the  door  beyond  Mrs.  Connelly's  tobacco  shop. 
The  sailorman  was  more  disturbed  to  find  that  Mrs. 
O'Mahony  kept  the  tiny  victualer's  shop  next 
door  —  the  other  side  of  the  room,  in  fact  — 
for  it  had  a  common  entrance  with  the  New  York 
Bar. 


112       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  Sure  and  what's  devourin'  ye  now,  Phyllis  ?" 
demanded  an  acrid  female  voice,  and  immediately  a 
huge  giantess  of  a  woman,  putty-nosed  but  fierce  of 
eye,  came  shuffling  up  to  the  line  of  the  bar  and 
peering  sidewise  into  the  recess  of  the  window  seat 
insisted  upon  her  first  query :  "  What's  devourin'  ye 
now,  I  say  ?  " 

"  This  is  Minnie's  mother,"  explained  Phyllis  to 
Ma. 

Never  too  brave  where  women  were  concerned, 
as  has  been  already  intimated,  Ma  watched  with  mis- 
givings and  alarm  this  Amazonian  woman's  features 
take  on  an  added  ungraciousness  as  she  made  out 
his  figure  beside  Phyllis,  and  fain  would  the  boson's 
mate  have  filtered  out  through  the  window  if  the 
window  had  been  open. 

"  This  young  man  is  of  the  same  mind  with  ye," 
chuckled  Phyllis  mischievously.  "  He  wants  your 
Minnie  to  refrain  from  marryin'  his  shipmate." 

"Refrain,  is  it?"  challenged  the  large  woman. 
"  Sure  and  it's  mesilf  will  refrain  her,  I  will  that !  " 
Mrs.  O'Mahony  set  herself  with  arms  akimbo  and 
chin  thrust  out  defiantly.  "  Take  yerself  aboard 
ship,  young  man,"  she  rumbled  on,  making  a  noise 
like  a  steam  pipe  in  distress,  "  and  tell  that  young 
snip  of  a  Riley  that  there's  never  come  disgrace  on 
the  O'Mahonys  since  the  days  of  Mahon  that  was 
king  and  foully  murdered  on  his  way  to  the  house 
of  Donovan,  but  venged  by  Brian  Boru.  The 
O'Mahonys  may  be  poor  but  they're  iver  that 
proud  —  " 

Ma's  Texan  spirit  grew  restless  and  resentful 
under  the  implications  of  this  to  him  unnecessary 
flood  of  oratory. 


Kidnaping  Cupid  113 

"Disgrace!"  broke  in  the  sailor,  reddening;  "I 
don't  allow  as  it's  any  dis  —  " 

"  No  disgrace?  "  sneered  Mrs.  O'Mahony.  "  Wid 
him  teasin'  and  walkin'  out  wid  her  every  blessed 
night  his  ship  is  in  port?  And  buyin'  her  presents 
and  the  like?  Ye  should  see  the  presents  he  give 
her  —  the  shoes,  and  the  stockin's,  and  the  gloves, 
and  the  ribbons  and  lawnjeree  —  real  Carrick- 
macross  and  Limerick  lace,  till  it's  fair  a  scandal. 
The  neighbors  are  that  scandilized  —  " 

"  Pardon  me,  ma'am,"  persisted  Ma;  "  but  I  ain't 
seen  yet  where  it's  a  disgrace  to  give  presents  to  a 
lady.  Back  in  my  country  you  can  give  her  a  calf 
or  a  cotton  crop  if  you  want  to,  and  it  ain't  no  dis- 
grace if  you  want  to  give  it  and  she  wants  to  take  it." 

"  But  he  belongs  to  the  navee !  "  she  snorted. 

"  In  my  country  that  ain't  figured  to  be  nothin* 
disreputable,"  said  Ma  quickly,  and  now  a  little 
stiffly. 

"  He's  a  common  American  sailor !  " 

"  Excuse  me,  ma'am,"  said  Ma,  now  all  dignity 
and  standing  very  straight.  "  No  man  ain't  com- 
mon when  he  gits  that  uniform  on.  He  just  natu- 
rally cain't  be." 

This  new  manner  of  Ma's  held  Mrs.  O'Mahony 
for  a  moment,  and  she  seemed  less  satisfied  with 
herself.  "  He's  that  slick,"  she  began  with  a  fresh 
breath  and  a  new  air  as  if  feeling  that  now  she  got 
on  firmer  ground  —  "  he's  that  slick  at  gettin'  round 
her  that  he's  won  her  silly  heart  into  yearnin'  to 
marry  him." 

"  That  ain't  no  crime  neither,  the  way  we  figure 
it,"  persisted  Ma,  all  his  stubbornness  roused  and 
his     eyes    blazing     indignantly.     "  Why,     shucks, 


114        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

woman !  Your  daughter  couldn't  git  a  better  hus- 
band than  Little  Benny  Riley." 

"  The  deceitful,  snoopin',  snippin'  gossoon ! " 
raged  Mrs.  O'Mahony. 

"  You-all  sure  are  a-slanderin'  a  mighty  nice  boy," 
declared  Ma  with  frowning  displeasure.  "  How- 
ever, that's  what  I  come  to  talk  to  you  about.  I 
cain't  stand  by  and  see  his  fine  young  character 
assassinated,  but  they  ain't  really  no  use  arguin'. 
You-all  musn't  let  your  daughter  marry  this  yere 
young  man.  He's  got  a  father  and  a  mother  and 
they're  comfortable.  You  can  see  how  they'd  feel 
with  him  marryin'  a  —  a  —  " 

Ma  was  conscientiously  feeling  for  the  diplomatic 
word,  while  a  new  expression  was  coming  over  the 
face  of  Mrs.  O'Mahony. 

"  The  O'Mahonys  are  as  good  as  the  Rileys  any 
day !  "  she  flung  into  the  breach. 

"  'Course  they  are,  Mis'  O'Mahony !  "  Ma  has- 
tened suavely  to  aver.  "  'Course  they  are !  Ever' 
bit!  But  you  see,  you  parents  not  knowin'  each 
other,  and  these  two  young  people  kind  of  thought- 
lesslike  —  why  —  so  we-all  just  talked  it  over,  me 
and  some  of  the  boys,  and  we  'lowed  we'd  come  over 
and  ask  you  not  to  let  'em." 

Mrs.  O'Mahony's  countenance  had  changed  again. 
Over  the  pallor  of  surprise  rage  had  mounted  once 
more  —  a  mightier  rage,  and  one  that  revealed  the 
blackness  of  its  venom  in  the  gnashing  of  the  two  or 
three  of  the  lady's  surviving  front  teeth.  Mrs. 
O'Mahony  could  hardly  be  said  now  to  speak.  She 
became  a  volcano  and  erupted  streams  of  molten 
language. 

"  Of-all-the-interferin',      insultin'      character-de- 


Kidnaping  Cupid  115 

stroyin'  impydence-that-ever-I-heard-in-all-the-days- 
of-me-life!   ..." 

She  wound  her  passion  higher  with  the  utterance 
of  every  word. 

"  Calm  yo'se'f ,  ma'am,"  urged  Ma.  "  You-all  are 
a-goin'  to  blow  up  a  condenser  or  somethin'  and 
injure  yo'se'f  permanent.  There  ain't  nobody 
a-goin'  to  do  you  no  harm.  I  just  come  along  over 
here  this  afternoon  peaceablelike  to  prevent  a  friend 
of  mine  from  doin'  harm  to  hisself." 

But  Mrs.  O'Mahony  had  passed  the  possibility  of 
calming.  Words  too  had  lost  the  power  of  relieving 
her;  yet  she  resented  supremely  this  final  maternal 
air  of  Ma,  so  to  speak,  and  her  excited  eye  falling 
upon  the  sticky  bar  mop  she  seized  it  and  started 
toward  the  sailorman  as  with  intent  to  do  him  bodily 
harm  or  extravagant  personal  indignity.  Perceiv- 
ing this  intent  Ma  debated  momentarily  whether  it 
were  more  honorable  to  do  battle  with  a  woman  or 
to  fly  ingloriously  from  her  assaults. 

He  decided  upon  the  latter  and  moved  with  stra- 
tegical deliberation  till  he  had  enticed  the  threaten- 
ing person  of  Mrs.  O'Mahony  past  the  table,  when 
he  neatly  dodged  round  the  other  end,  avoided  the 
cluttering  figure  of  Phyllis,  who  was  quite  convulsed 
with  mirth,  leaped  nimbly  over  the  bar  and  escaped 
into  the  little  square  in  front,  whence  he  heard  Mrs. 
O'Mahony's  futile  ragings  and  Phyllis'  squawks  of 
joyous  laughter  both  pursuing  him.  Each  was  alike 
offensive  to  the  proud  spirit  of  Ma,  who  glanced 
about  quickly  to  make  sure  that  no  derisive  sailor 
eye  had  marked  his  hasty  and  undignified  exit  from 
the  New  York  Bar.  No  bluejackets  being  visible, 
the  young  man,  deaf  to  the  shouted  pleadings  of 


116       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

Phyllis  to  return,  luffed  and  weathered  the  corner 
and  paused  to  collect  himself  and  excogitate  upon 
the  situation. 

"  The  old  lady  zigzags  some  in  her  mind,  but  she 
shore  is  dead  agin  Minnie  leadin'  little  Benny  to  the 
halter,"  was  his  first  deduction.  "  She  ain't  heard 
nothin'  at  all  about  this  here  weddin'  bein'  set  for 
to-night  though,  an'  that  leaves  the  whole  thing  up 
to  me,"  was  his  second. 

Ma  sighed.  His  feelings  were  somewhat  ruffled, 
his  pride  hurt,  his  dignity  assailed.  It  was,  all 
things  considered,  an  unpleasant  business  upon 
which  he  had  engaged  himself.  Still  Ma  was  not 
easily  dissuaded  from  his  purposes.  He  had  under- 
taken a  mission  on  behalf  of  his  friend,  and  he 
would  carry  on  though  the  end  be  bitter. 

"  That  there  Bilge  person  will  be  on  the  beach 
directly !  "  he  reflected  by  way  of  spurring  himself 
along.  "  I  got  to  get  busy  or  he'll  be  in  here  and 
have  the  whole  thing  jazzed  up.  I  shore  would 
love  to  be  round  though  when  he  has  his  talk  with 
the  old  lady.  Maybe  I  can  git  back  and  git  hid 
behind  Phyllis'  bar  in  time." 

Nourished  by  this  comfortable  hope  Ma  hurried 
up  the  hill.  He  found  following  Phyllis'  directions 
impossible,  as  such  directions  so  readily  given  by 
the  loquacious  folk  of  this  tight  little  isle  always  are 
impossible;  but  by  repeated  inquiries  he  got  himself 
directed  at  last  to  the  O'Mahony  door,  which  ap- 
peared to  be  but  one  entrance  of  many  to  a  hivelike 
heap  of  stone  and  plaster  that  bulked  its  ugly  shape 
on  the  hillside  and  probably  sheltered  one  way  and 
another  half  a  dozen  families  and  mayhap  some  of 
their  enterprises  as  well. 


Kidnaping  Cupid  117 

The  sailor  knew  the  type  well  enough  —  rookeries 
of  most  unexpected  relation  and  attachment,  with 
halls  connected  that  had  not  been  meant  to  be  con- 
nected, with  passages  closed  up  or  whole  rooms  or 
series  of  rooms  blocked  off  and  unused,  given  over 
to  bats  and  spiders  because  of  some  old  superstition 
as  to  haunt  or  ill  luck ;  while  at  the  same  time  doors 
might  have  been  chiseled  through  stone  walls  to 
afford  access  to  other  houses  or  areaways  or  to  add 
other  apartments  like  architectural  warts  and  wens 
to  the  main  structure  —  a  form  of  house  admirably 
adapted  to  the  needs  of  people  who  wish  to  live 
complex  evasive  lives,  but  to  the  simple  honest  folk 
who  did  inhabit  them  a  mere  thriftless  accommoda- 
tion to  the  most  rudimentary  needs  of  civilized  life. 

Because  Ma  did  know  the  type,  he  approached 
this  particular  entrance  to  the  pile  with  no  particular 
hope  that  he  was  entering  the  immediate  purlieus 
of  the  O'Mahony  home.  One  glance  convinced  him 
that  he  had  been  mistaken  in  this,  however,  and  he 
stood  with  sinking  heart  and  utter  loss  of  self-con- 
fidence before  the  picture  it  afforded.  There  were 
animate  things  in  this  picture,  and  inanimate.  Since 
the  inanimate  furnished  the  necessary  setting  for 
the  animate  they  had  best  be  apprehended  first. 

The  door  itself,  after  a  fashion  of  Irish  doors, 
was  cut  in  half  at  the  waistline.  The  lower  half 
was  closed,  but  the  upper  half  swung  hospitably 
inward,  inviting  to  a  view  of  the  interior  —  an 
interior  that  was  cluttered  up  with  furniture  of 
various  vintages  and  many  kinds  suggesting  that 
the  single  room  was  used  for  the  entire  daily  round 
of  at  least  one  family's  life.  There  was  a  bed  with 
posts  of  wood  that  age  and  the  incidents  of  domestic 


118       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

usage  had  rendered  varnishless,  and  in  reach  of  this 
was  a  kitchen  table  that  obviously  served  also  as  a 
dining  table.  Age,  too,  had  had  its  way  with  the 
thick  deal  top  of  this  table,  for  it  was  worn  into 
waves  by  the  rubbing  of  generations  of  elbows  and 
of  sliding  dishes,  while  at  the  corners  it  was  hacked 
into  gutters  by  the  careless  but  emphatic  descent  of 
thousands  of  blades  of  knives  as  they  sawed  the 
ends  from  loaves  or  pared  the  cheese  or  sliced  the 
ham. 

Other  furniture  in  the  room  was  of  a  like  degree 
of  antiquity;  the  dressing  shelf  was  ancient,  all  save 
its  mirror;  the  chests  of  drawers  were  time-scarred. 
The  visitor  was  assured,  however,  that  he  was  still 
in  his  own  world  by  the  presence  of  certain  anach- 
ronisms and  incongruities.  A  stove,  quite  modern 
and  quite  rusty,  was  set  in  a  very  venerable  fireplace, 
which  had  been  in  part  bricked  up  in  consequence; 
and  there  was  a  modern  lamp  on  the  archaic  mantel, 
while  a  luridly  lithographed  calendar  and  a  brilliant 
poster  of  the  Cork  horse  fair  were  in  evidence  as 
savoring  particularly  of  the  now,  so  that  the  humble 
ambassador  from  the  great  new  republic  was  not 
abashed  by  all  this  antiquity,  but  merely  reminded 
how  venerable  was  this  stone-pile  scramble  of  human 
habitation  into  which  fraternal  duty  led  him. 

Yet  the  bald  truth  is  that  all  of  this  inanimate  got 
no  more  than  a  passing  glance  from  Ma.  With  the 
tail  of  an  eye  he  swept  it  up  into  the  background 
of  consciousness  and  forgot  it,  standing  transfixed 
by  the  animate  —  a  very  modern-looking  Irish  girl 
in  a  decrepit  old  upholstered  chair,  knitting  merrily 
while  a  kitten  lifted  a  playful  paw  toward  her  yarn. 
She  was  a  plump  little  thing  —  the  girl  —  who  bent 


Kidnaping  Cupid  119 

over  her  work  with  an  air  of  happy  industry.  Her 
skirts  were  short,  her  shoes  were  low,  her  stockings 
were  smooth  and  shiny  silk  —  a  gift  from  Benny, 
no  doubt  —  and  her  hair  was  braided  and  coiled  at 
the  back  in  a  fashion  that  Ma  decided  instantly  was 
the  only  becoming  way  for  a  girl  to  do  her  hair. 

The  significance  of  the  picture  crept  cunningly 
round  the  impressionable  heart  of  Ma  —  the  kitten, 
the  happy- faced  girl,  the  tune  she  was  humming  — 
Over  There  —  and  the  sweater  in  navy  gray ! 

"  A  sweater  for  Benny,  by  gum !  "  admitted  Ma, 
with  delight  and  pain  mingling  in  his  bosom. 

But  it  was  when  he  knocked  that  Ma's  loyalty  to 
his  purpose  in  the  coming  interview  was  first  actually 
threatened,  for  the  knitter  looked  up  at  him  with 
a  most  destructive  smile.  The  girl's  features  were 
not  exactly  regular ;  her  forehead  was  low,  her  nose 
turned  up  perceptibly,  and  her  mouth  was  possibly 
a  little  large;  yet  she  smiled  on  Ma  wholesomely, 
winsomely,  and  with  a  light  of  fine  good  feeling  in 
her  eyes  as  she  recognized  the  uniform  of  the  Navy 
and  seemed  to  approve  it  as  her  own.  It  occasioned 
Ma  a  stabbing  sense  of  guilt  and  remorse  to  think 
that  he  had  conspired  so  recklessly  against  the  peace 
and  happiness  of  eyes  like  these,  lips  like  these. 

The  girl  rose  and  came  quickly  to  the  door.  The 
sailor's  face  was  unfamiliar  to  her  but  he  was  a 
sailor;  he  came  to  ask  a  question,  perhaps  to  seek 
direction. 

"  I  am  from  the  Judson,"  said  Ma,  doffing  his  flat 
hat  quickly. 

Minnie's  face  lighted  freshly  with  such  an  expres- 
sion of  faith  and  camaraderie  as  indicated  that  all 
men  from  the  Judson  were  cousins  to  her  heart. 


120       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  You  come  from  Benny?  "  she  asked  with  doting 
emphasis  on  the  proper  name,  a  sort  of  freighting 
of  it  with  the  sweetness  of  honey  and  the  tenderness 
of  great  love. 

"  Yessum,"  said  Ma;  "that  is,  not  exactly. 
Ford's  my  name.  You  see  Benny's  an  awful  good 
friend  of  mine  and  we  —  " 

For  a  moment  a  puzzled  network  wrinkled  the 
girl's  brow. 

"Ford?  Ford?"  she  murmured,  trying  to  be 
polite  but  frankly  wondering.  "  I  don't  seem  to 
remember.  Bilge  and  Ma  are  the  ones  he  talks 
most  about." 

"  I'm  Ma,"  confessed  her  visitor  with  an  embar- 
rassed blush,  as  if  feeling  that  his  absurd  feminine 
nickname  had  placed  him  at  a  disadvantage  by  thus 
preceding  him  into  this  most  appealing  child- 
woman's  presence. 

"  O-o-o-oh !  "  exclaimed  the  girl,  and  welcomed 
him  with  both  hands,  strong  little  hands  and  yet 
tender,  so  that  the  very  touch  of  them  contributed 
at  once  to  the  further  breaking  down  of  the  osseous 
structure  of  Ma's  resolution. 

"  And  we  sort  of  heard  out  on  the  ship,"  began 
Ma,  but  was  checked  by  Minnie,  who,  blushing 
prettily,  placed  a  finger  on  her  lips  and  shook  her 
blond  head  at  him  in  warning  that  he  must  not  babble 
secrets  where  even  the  walls  have  ears. 

"  But  tell  me  about  Benny !  Isn't  Benny  that  won- 
derful ? "  she  demanded,  with  features  perfectly 
radiant. 

"  He  shore  is !  "  deposed  Ma  fervently,  though 
his  mind  scattered  wildly  as  he  marveled  how  ever 
he  could  break  to  this  confiding  little  creature  — 


Kidnaping  Cupid  121 

"  Tell  me  about  him !  What  kind  of  a  man  is  he 
on  shipboard?  " 

"  He's  jest  about  the  nicest  boy  on  that  ship," 
affirmed  Ma,  cracking  his  finger  joints  in  embarrass- 
ment while  his  eyes  skirted  the  room  and  then  ven- 
tured back  to  the  face  before  him. 

"And  does  the  captain  like  him?"  she  asked 
anxiously. 

"  You  can  take  it  that  he  does,  Miss  Minnie.  If 
the  captain  didn't  like  him  Benny  wouldn't  be  a 
yeoman  at  all;  he'd  be  just  a  plain  deckwasher  or 
something." 

"  Oh,  and  do  the  boys  like  him?  " 

"  They  jest  about  say  their  prayers  to  'im,"  de- 
clared Ma,  gulping  at  the  largest  figure  of  speech 
his  mind  could  muster.  "  There  ain't  a  more  pop'- 
lar  man  on  the  ship,  less'n  it's  Bilge,  and  Bilge  is  so 
ugly  and  unfavored  by  Nature  that  every  human 
bein'  that  sees  him  just  naturally  his  heart  goes  out 
to  him  in  pure  sympathy." 

"  Oh,  I'm  that  glad !  "  gurgled  Minnie,  jumping 
up  and  down.     "  That's  what  they  all  say." 

"  You  been  asking  'em,  I  suppose,"  smiled  Ma. 

"  'Deed  and  I  do,"  admitted  Minnie  with  that 
sunny  smile  which,  together  with  the  soft  Irish  burr 
of  her  voice,  was  melting  the  heart  of  Ma  as  if  it 
were  a  thing  of  wax. 

For  a  minute  the  needles  played  hide  and  seek 
with  the  stubby  white  fingers,  while  the  sweater  grew 
by  a  row  of  stitches  and  the  sailor  boy  could  find  no 
word  for  his  palsied  tongue. 

"  We're  not  going  to  live  with  mother  when  we're 
married,"  confided  the  girl  with  a  touch  of  sadness. 

"No?"  asked  Ma,  with  intonations  of  concern. 


122       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  Mother  isn't  nice  to  Benny,"  explained  Minnie. 

"  Not  nice  to  him?  "  inquired  Ma,  pretending  to 
be  amazed.    "  Nobody  can  help  bein'  nice  to  Benny." 

"  Mother  can  that,"  declared  Minnie  with  a  sober 
nod  and  an  emphasis  that  was  very  significant. 
"  She  can  help  being  nice  to  anybody  that  she 
doesn't  like." 

"  And  ain't  got  no  particular  use  for  American 
sailors,  huh  ?  " 

"  Sure  and  she  has,"  affirmed  Minnie  with  a 
change  of  tone  and  a  toss  of  her  little  head  while 
her  fingers  played  rapidly  with  the  knitting  needles. 
"  Sure  and  she  does ;  only  she  wants  me  to  marry 
Farmer  Cadogan's  Patsy,  that's  got  seventeen  cows 
and  a  meadow.    But  I  love  Benny." 

"  Benny !  Why,  Benny's  got  a  hundred  thousand 
dollars !  "  exclaimed  Ma,  startled  to  recall  the  fact. 
"  Do  you  know  how  much  a  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars is  ?  Why,  for  that  you-all  can  buy  a  ranch  and 
a  whole  herd  of  white-faces  down  where  I  come 
from." 

Minnie  did  not  start. 

She  knitted  on  in  silence  for  as  much  as  two 
stitches  and  a  half,  or  maybe  three,  and  then  she 
turned  blue  perturbed  eyes  on  Ma,  with  a  sudden 
pallor  coming  to  her  cheeks. 

"  Benny  never  told  me  that,"  she  admitted  with 
a  little  gasp  of  fright. 

"He  told  me  oncet,"  affirmed  Ma;  "and  what 
Benny  tells  me  is  the  truth,  by  gum !  But  —  What 
you  scared  of  ?  " 

The  knitting  lay  in  a  little  heap  in  Minnie's  lap 
and  her  breath  was  coming  quickly. 

"  A  man  with  twenty  thousand  pounds  doesn't 


Kidnaping  Cupid  123 

marry  a  girl  with  —  with  nothing  —  over  here. 
His  folks  —  his  solicitors  wouldn't  allow  him." 

Minnie's  paleness  grew;  for  a  moment  it  seemed 
as  if  her  heart  had  almost  stopped  beating,  and  her 
hand  was  pressed  sharply  to  her  bosom. 

"  Do  you  think,"  she  whispered  haltingly,  "  that 
he  didn't  mean  it  ?  " 

"Who?    Benny?" 

"  When  he  said  that  he  would  marry  me  —  to-to- 
night?" 

"  Mean  it?"  echoed  Ma,  his  heart  filling  like  a 
balloon  in  his  breast.  "  He  meant  it  with  every  bit 
of  man  that's  in  him !  " 

Now,  as  Bilge  had  put  it  once,  "  there  is  some- 
thing about  Ma  that  when  he  says  a  thing  and  wants 
you  to  believe  it  you  just  can't  help  doing  it."  Per- 
haps that  is  one  reason  why  they  call  him  Ma. 

"  Oh,  I  am  that  glad !  "  said  the  little  woman  with 
a  relieved  sigh.  But  she  was  still  in  a  doubtful 
mood.  "  What  for  was  it,  do  you  think,  that  Benny 
didn't  tell  me  that  he  was  rich  ?  "  she  asked  after 
an  interval. 

"  I  reckon  he  just  wanted  to  make  sure  you-all 
wasn't  marryin'  him  for  the  money,"  suggested 
Ma. 

"  For  his  money  ?  "  echoed  the  modest  little  voice. 
"  Benny  knew  I  wouldn't  do  that.  I  just  love 
Benny!  Perhaps  it  was  on  account  of  his  father 
and  mother.  I  fancy  he  thought  if  I  knew  they 
were  rich  I'd  make  sure  they  wouldn't  like  me,  and 
then  I  wouldn't  marry  him.  Oh,  I  did  hope  —  do 
you  think,  Mr.  —  Mr.  Ford  —  " 

The  little  lady  stood  up  suddenly  and  confronted 
Ma  with  her  hands  behind  her  back,  the  trim  figure 


124       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

erect  —  trim  but  inclined  to  plumpness  —  and  asked 
straightforwardly,  with  the  blue  eyes  searching,  with 
the  wistful  lips  yearning :  "  Do  you  think  that 
Benny's  father  and  mother  will  like  me  ?  " 

"  Honey,  they  shore  would  love  you !  "  affirmed 
Ma  gallantly,  with  a  wide  two-armed  gesture  of  the 
plains.  "  Nobody  on  earth  could  help  likin'  you  at 
the  first  look.  I'm  plumb  in  love  with  you  myself, 
and  if  Benny  don't  marry  you  —  why,  my  flat  hat 
and  my  old  flat  head  is  in  the  ring  right  now." 

Minnie  laughed  heartily,  entirely  reassured. 

"  But  look  here,"  inquired  the  sailor,  "  how  do 
you  figure  to  pull  off  this  stunt  of  gettin'  married 
to-night,  with  your  ma  agin  you  like  she  is  ?  " 

"  Why,  we  have  the  —  " 

Minnie  began  to  explain  confidentially,  and  then 
checked  herself,  gazing  at  Ma  inquisitively,  as  de- 
manding why  if  he  was  such  a  warm  friend  of 
Benny's  he  did  not  know  their  plans.  That  look 
finished  Ma. 

"  Miss  Minnie,"  he  blurted  frankly.  "  I  tell  you 
the  honest  old  Jerusalem  gospel  truth :  Benny  didn't 
take  me  into  his  confidence  none  at  all  about  these 
here  obsequies  of  his.  He  knew  that  Bilge  and  me 
was  against  'em  on  principle.  I  just  heard  that  he 
was  a-goin'  to  commit  matrimony  to-night,  and  I 
come  over  here  to  persuade  you  not  to  do  it.  I've 
fell  for  you  flatter'n  ever  Benny  did,  and  I  just  want 
to  tell  you  that  they  might  be  some  scheme  or  other 
pulled  off  by  a  bunch  of  mush-brained  gobs  to  keep 
Benny  from  keepin'  his  appointment  with  you  to- 
night, and  maybe  it  would  be  to  yore  advantage  to 
sort  of  pass  me  out  the  details." 

"  Oh !  "  gasped  Minnie.     "  They  couldn't  be  so 


Kidnaping  Cupid  125 

cruel,  because  —  "  And  her  little  chin  got  a  pucker 
in  it  that  was  most  distressing  to  behold. 

"  They  could  be  just  that  big  darned  fools,"  in- 
sisted Ma.     "  Look  at  me !  " 

And  by  a  gesture  and  an  expression  of  self-scorn 
he  indicated  his  presence  there  and  the  errand  upon 
which  he  had  come. 

Minnie  was  a  discerning  person.  She  neither 
argued  nor  reproached,  but  at  once  began  to  explain. 

"  Benny  has  the  second  dog  to-night.  That  lets 
him  off  at  eight.  He'll  be  here  at  nine.  Mother 
comes  up  for  tea  at  five,  then  goes  back  to  the  store 
and  stays  till  about  ten.  Father  Brown  is  going  to 
marry  us  at  nine-thirty." 

"Where?" 

"  At  the  cathedral ;  and  then  come  home  and  break 
the  news  to  mother." 

"  And  how  did  you  come  it  over  Father  Brown 
with  your  ma  —  " 

"  Father  Brown  likes  Benny.  He'd  do  anything 
for  him." 

"  Which  shows  that  Father  Brown  ain't  no  bad 
judge  of  humanity,"  commented  Ma;  "  but  he  must 
be  a  brave  man,  knowin'  your  mother  like  he  prob'ly 
does." 

"  Mother?  "  Minnie  laughed  musically.  "  Mother 
will  wilt  when  Father  Brown  tells  her  it's  he  that's 
done  it,  and  all  for  the  best.  'Tis  not  against  the 
likes  of  him  that  she'd  be  holding  out  at  all,  at  all." 

Ma  weighed  this  estimate  of  the  probabilities 
gravely  and  seemed  to  be  fairly  well  satisfied  with 
its  correctness. 

"  And  so,  Miss  Minnie,"  he  inquired,  "  all  'at 
you  want  done  to  insure  yore  perpetual  happiness 


126       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

from  this  time  on  and  forever  is  for  one  First-class 
Yeoman,  Little  Benny  Riley  by  name,  to  be  delivered 
to  these  here  premises  right  side  up  with  care,  on 
or  before  nine  o'clock  to-night?  " 

Minnie  blushed  and  nodded. 

"  Traitor  that  I  am,  I  will  see  that  he  is  yere  or 
my  name  ain't  Ford  and  Texas  ain't  the  greatest 
state  in  the  whole  plumb  world,"  declared  Ma. 

Minnie  crooked  a  playful  finger  at  Ford  and 
wrinkled  up  her  nose  amiably. 

"  You  can  be  the  first  to  kiss  the  bride,"  she 
smiled. 

"  I'd  a  heap  sight  ruther  kiss  her  now,"  he  plucked 
up  courage  to  say. 

"  It  can't  be  did,"  laughed  Minnie,  proudly  dis- 
playing her  acquisition  of  a  fleeting  and  unlovely 
American  idiom. 

"  I  reckon  not,"  sighed  Ma  ruefully. 

Minnie  glanced  at  the  clock,  and  guided  as  by  a 
premonition  stepped  to  the  door  and  looked  down 
the  street. 

"  Mother  is  coming !  "  she  exclaimed  quickly. 
"  You  must  go." 

Ma  paled  at  the  news  and  hastily  gathered  his 
flat  hat  unto  him.  The  prospect  of  meeting  Mrs. 
O'Mahony  face  to  face  when  he  had  just  agreed 
openly  to  compound  treason  against  his  own  intents 
of  half  an  hour  ago,  as  well  as  to  conspire  against 
Bilge  and  the  will  of  this  irascible  Irish  matron,  was 
by  no  means  inviting. 

"  No !  Not  that  way !  "  commanded  Minnie  as 
Ma  started  for  the  door.  "  Mother  might  suspect 
something.  Here !  "  The  girl  caught  hold  of  the 
sailor's  arm  and  spun  him  round  with  a  surprising 


Kidnaping  Cupid  127 

display  of  youthful  strength.  "  Go  up  the  stairs 
there.  Take  the  door  you  see  at  the  turn.  Go 
through  it  to  a  passage  that  leads  out,  take  two  turns 
to  the  right  and  one  to  the  left,  and  you  come  out 
on  the  alley.,, 

There  it  was,  the  typical  Irish  direction,  "~two 
turns  to  the  right  and  one  to  the  left,"  and  so  on, 
perfectly  simple  in  sound  and  perfectly  bewildering 
in  fact.  Yet  Ma,  though  suspecting  that  he  was 
about  to  plunge  into  labyrinthine  entanglements  of 
attics  strange  and  passages  tortuous  and  mystifying, 
that  would  lead  him  anywhere  but  where  he  wished 
to  go,  plunged  upward  recklessly,  for  there  was  an 
urgency  in  Minnie's  tones  which  he  had  not  the 
strength  to  deny.  The  young  man  found  himself 
almost  immediately  in  a  room  that  evidently  con- 
stituted the  sleeping  apartment  of  a  female.  At 
any  rate  there  was  a  bed  in  it;  and  an  array  of 
feminine  garments  hanging  along  the  wall,  with  a 
sort  of  dressing  table  at  one  side  surmounted  by  a 
mirror.  His  very  presence  in  such  an  apartment 
tended  to  excitement  and  confusion,  so  that  Ma 
hurried  to  a  door  that  he  discerned,  half  concealed 
beneath  the  garments  on  the  walls,  a  door  with  the 
knob  unconnected  with  the  lock  and  planted  midway 
of  the  central  panel,  as  Irish  knobs  are  wont  to  be 
planted. 

Through  this  door  Ma  undertook  to  make  a  hasty 
and  noiseless  exit  as  he  heard  heavy  steps  on  the 
flagged  floor  below  and  the  vibrant  voice  of  Mrs. 
O'Mahony  greeting  her  daughter,  at  first  with  un- 
doubted affection  in  its  tones  and  then  complaining 
querulously  that  the  teakettle  was  not  yet  put  to 
boil. 


128        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

The  door  opened  very  stiffly.  It  took  all  of  Ma's 
strength  to  budge  it,  in  fact,  and  when  it  yielded  a 
scraping  sound  issued  from  behind  as  if  something 
heavy  within  were  stowed  against  it. 

"Faith  and  did  ye  hear  anything  upstairs?" 
inquired  the  mother's  penetrating  voice. 

"  No,  mother,"  Minnie  answered  blandly  after  an 
interval  of  silence. 

"  'Tis  myself  has  the  better  ears  then,"  alleged 
a  self-satisfied  tone;  "or  McCarthy's  ghost  is 
walkin'  in  broad  daylight  and  not  on  a  Chuesday." 

Succeeding  this  a  heavy  foot  was  planted  on  the 
stair. 

Ma  thrusting  in  a  hasty  hand  through  the  crack 
in  the  door  identified  a  chest  of  some  sort  as  blocking 
his  advance,  and  hesitated,  darting  an  anxious  glance 
back  round  the  wall  of  the  room  behind  him,  to 
discern  if  perhaps  there  was  another  door  that  he 
had  overlooked.  Yes,  there  it  was,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  room,  plainly  visible  now,  though  from 
where  he  had  stood  before  shadows  had  concealed  it. 

"Wait  a  minute,  mother;  I  want  to  show  you 
this,"  called  the  voice  of  Minnie,  with  a  note  of 
trepidation  in  it  that  escaped  the  mother  or  was 
misinterpreted  by  her;  but  the  sailor  understood  it 
very  well.  It  was  a  device  to  delay  Mrs.  O'Mahony 
and  enable  him  to  get  clear  and  away. 

But  Mrs.  O'Mahony  would  not  thus  be  detained. 
Her  feet  pounded  upward.  There  was  no  time 
therefore  for  Ma  to  venture  crossing  the  room  to  see 
if  the  other  door  opened  easier  —  no  time  to  pause 
and  count  on  his  fingers  or  toes  whether  this  was  the 
right  turn  or  not  he  had  taken.  There  was  time 
only  to  lift  the  heavy  chest  noiselessly  a  little  aside 


Kidnaping  Cupid  129 

from  the  door,  to  slip  quickly  through  the  narrow 
opening  thus  permitted  and  stand  breathless  and 
thanking  his  lucky  star  that  Mrs.  O'Mahony,  toiling 
upward,  would  find  nothing  in  sight  to  confirm  her 
well-grounded  suspicions. 

Ma  remained  motionless  till  the  stairs  assured  him 
that  a  heavy  body  had  creaked  downward  again, 
meanwhile  taking  stock  of  the  room  in  which  he 
found  himself.  It  appeared  to  be  a  sort  of  limbo 
of  discarded  souls  of  things  no  longer  useful.  The 
window  had  not  been  washed  in  generations,  and 
the  dim  light  that  struggled  through  the  dust-enam- 
eled panes  was  barely  sufficient  to  reveal  the  shapes 
of  old  chests,  cupboards  and  stacks  of  broken  or 
dismantled  furniture.  Through  this  after  a  time 
Ma  began  to  pick  his  way,  slowly  and  noiselessly, 
for  fear  still  of  rousing  that  alert  and  acrid  per- 
sonality behind  and  below  him. 

And  as  he  moved  he  speculated,  at  first  in  mere 
curiosity,  at  the  strange  shapes  with  which  the  room 
was  filled,  and  then  with  something  like  method  and 
intent  as  he  discerned  opposite  him  a  door  leading 
outward.  Eventually  he  reached  this  door,  stealing 
forward  in  ghostly  fashion,  but  did  not  at  once  lay 
violent  hands  upon  it  from  consideration  of  what 
might  lie  behind.  Convinced  now  that  he  had  taken 
the  wrong  way  out  of  Mrs.  O'Mahony's  bedroom, 
Ma  realized  that  he  was  scouting  in  foreign  terri- 
tory and  applied  a  cautious  eye  where  a  time-eroded 
notch  in  the  door  afforded  a  comprehensive  view 
of  what  lay  immediately  beyond.  This  at  first  ap- 
peared as  no  more  than  another  bedroom,  scantily 
yet  peculiarly  furnished,  since  amid  a  few  dilapi- 
dated bits  that  looked  as  if  they  might  have  been 


130       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

recovered  from  the  room  in  which  he  stood  to  make 
his  survey,  there  were  some  things  of  a  decidedly 
twentieth-century  appearance. 

Among  these  latter  was  a  boxed  affair  that  to 
Ma  resembled  nothing  so  much  as  the  dictaphone 
he  had  seen  on  the  stage  in  one  scene  of  The  Argyle 
Case.  There  was  also  a  pair  of  exceedingly  mod- 
ern binoculars  on  a  table,  which,  itself  ancient 
enough,  held  an  array  of  new-looking  bottles  of 
inks  and  a  rack  of  test-tubes  containing  chemicals 
in  fluid  form. 

"  What  the  tarnation  kind  of  a  layout  is  this  ?  " 
inquired  Ma  beneath  his  breath.  When  no  answer 
vouchsafed  itself  to  this  query  his  eye  addressed  its 
keen  inquiring  glance  to  the  door  that  stood  beyond 
the  table.  Through  that,  Ma  judged,  guessing  reck- 
lessly at  the  architecture  of  the  house,  was  the  pas- 
sageway that  he  required  to  make  his  exit  to  the 
street  in  safety. 

But  again  there  rose  a  question :  Did  this  passage- 
way, if  passageway  there  were,  conduct  to  a  stair 
that  led  downward  into  the  middle  of  somebody's 
living  room,  or  did  it  lead  outside  to  a  street?  If 
the  latter,  well;  but  if  it  led  down  inside,  ill;  for 
what  was  a  man  in  a  sailor's  uniform  going  to  have 
to  offer  by  way  of  explanation  in  case  he  descended 
suddenly  into  the  midst  of  some  family  at  their  tea? 
Ma  reddened  at  the  prospect  of  such  embarrassment. 
He  was  deciding,  however,  that  he  would  at  least 
go  across  and  try  this  door,  when  abruptly  a  key 
grated  in  the  lock. 

Locked!  That  was  strange.  This  was  some- 
body's outside  door,  then ;  and  how  did  anybody  get 
to  that  door  so  quietly  ?    Ma  should  have  heard  the 


Kidnaping  Cupid  131 

advancing  footsteps  booming  in  the  passage.  Since 
he  did  not  he  was  scarcely  surprised  that  the  door 
was  now  opened  very  stealthily  by  a  tall,  roughly 
bewhiskered  creature  with  weasel  eyes  and  furtive 
manner,  wearing  the  dress  of  a  laborer  and  the 
superficial  appearance  of  a  shepherd  or  drover.  His 
shoes  and  clothing  were  dust-covered,  as  if  from 
tramping  in  the  streets  or  upon  country  roads. 

The  newcomer's  first  act  was  suspicious.  It  was 
to  survey  swiftly  every  detail  of  the  room,  as  mak- 
ing sure  that  nothing  in  it  had  been  disturbed;  and 
his  second  was  to  remove  with  care,  as  if  to  avoid 
disturbing  any  of  the  dust  that  adhered,  his  hat,  his 
coat,  his  shoes  and  his  trousers;  after  which  he 
washed  his  hands  and  face,  redressed  himself  in 
gentler  garb,  and  appeared  to  proceed  very  directly 
to  business  by  taking  up  the  binoculars  from  the 
desk  and  beginning  to  sweep  the  harbor. 

It  seemed  to  Ma  that  he  was  studying  particularly 
the  anchorages  of  the  destroyers.  Occasionally  he 
lowered  the  glasses  and  made  notes  with  a  pencil. 
Ma  suspected  that  he  was  noting  down  the  identifi- 
cation numbers  of  the  ships,  which  his  glasses  of 
course  would  plainly  make  out,  and  the  blood  began 
to  surge  hot  in  the  young  sailor's  veins.  Next  the 
man  took  up  the  earpiece  of  the  dictaphone  and  lis- 
tened interminably.  Sometimes  as  he  listened  he 
smiled.  At  others  his  unappealing  features  assumed 
a  bored  expression.  Eventually  he  put  down  the 
dictaphone  and  began  to  write,  laboriously,  pains- 
takingly. 

"If  that  feller's  writin'  to  his  girl  he's  shore  tellin' 
it  to  her  right,"  Ma  remarked  to  himself  impatiently. 

Just  then  the  writer  leaned  back  with  a  sigh  of 


132       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

satisfaction  as  at  the  conclusion  of  a  task  and  lifted 
the  page  before  him,  when  to  Ma's  surprise  he  saw 
that  the  writing  upon  it  was  slowly  fading  out. 
The  top  of  the  page  was  already  blank;  the  charac- 
ters were  vanishing  line  by  line,  and  only  the  last 
few  remained  freshly  purple,  and  those  were  paling 
before  the  sailor's  astonished  eye. 

"  This  yere  whole  thing  is  phony,"  decided  Ma 
gravely  when  his  watch  upon  the  entire  series  of 
operations  had  consumed  nearly  an  hour.  "  I'm 
a-goin'  to  jiujitsu  this  feller  and  sort  of  look  him 
over." 

Silently  he  untied  and  removed  his  shoes  and  then 
peered  out  again.  The  man  was  sweeping  his  letter 
through  the  air  and  fanning  it  till  it  should  be  dry, 
and  presently  he  held  it  still  again,  a  page  of  pristine 
whiteness.  Succeeding  this  he  began  immediately 
to  write  upon  it  once  more;  but  this  time  with 
ordinary-looking  black  ink  instead  of  the  brilliant 
purple  he  had  employed  before. 

"  That's  the  fake  letter  the  censor  reads,"  decided 
Ma,  and  communed  with  himself  silently  as  fol- 
lows :  "  And  now  for  them  little  lessons  in  jiujitsu 
that  Professor  Smith  give  us  all  at  B.  N.  Y.  last 
winter  "  —  B.  N.  Y.  being  sailorese  for  Brooklyn 
Navy  Yard.  "  Lemme  see ;  you  stiffen  the  right 
hand,  thus,  and  you  chop  the  edge  of  it  in  sharp  in 
the  general  vicinity  of  the  Adam's  apple,  thus;  and 
if  you  have  done  it  right  the  victim  immediately 
becomes  unconscious  without  uttering  a  single 
sound.  Yeh  —  that's  the  dope.  Just  like  the  prof, 
give  it  to  us." 

Ma  pulled  the  door  to  him  softly  and  swiftly, 
and  with  two  long  catlike  strides  was  behind  the 


Kidnaping  Cupid  133 

man  at  the  table  with  his  right  hand  upraised,  sharp, 
stiff  and  bladelike. 

"  Excuse  me,  stranger,"  began  Ma,  and  the  tall 
man  turned  in  startled  surprise,  lowering  his  shoul- 
der as  if  to  open  the  way  for  the  impending  blow 
at  his  throat  by  the  very  act  of  reaching  swiftly 
toward  his  hip.  The  hard  hand  of  the  boson's  mate 
described  its  sharp  and  merciless  arc,  and  the  tall 
figure  gasped  and  sank  listless  in  the  chair. 

"  Durned  if  it  didn't  work!  "  exclaimed  Ma  pleas- 
antly. "  Smith,  you  are  all  right.  I  always  said 
you  was  all  right  too.  I  knowed  if  ever  I  got  the 
chance —  There  now!  That'll  do  you  fur  a 
spell." 

This  last  was  addressed  to  the  silent  figure  now 
upon  the  floor,  for  Ma  had  swiftly  undone  his  black 
sailor  neckerchief,  made  a  huge  knot  in  the  center 
of  it,  and  wadding  the  victim's  own  handkerchief 
into  his  mouth  had  gagged  him  securely  with  two 
passes  about  his  neck  and  through  the  open  jaws. 

"  Now  for  a  piece  of  rope !  " 

No  rope  was  handy,  however,  but  a  coil  of  the 
flexible  dictaphone  wire  lay  upon  the  table,  and  with 
loops  from  this  Ma  bound  the  tall  man's  feet  and 
hands,  kicked  him  rather  carelessly  out  of  the  way 
and  began  a  close  examination  of  the  table.  At 
first  it  appeared  to  contain  no  drawers,  but  Ma's 
investigation  was  thorough,  and  presently  he  had 
brought  to  light  a  flat  receptacle  in  the  very  top 
board  of  the  table  itself,  containing  letters  written 
in  that  peculiar  purple,  which  some  treatment  or 
application  had  now  rendered  fixed  and  stable. 
These  purple  characters  were  in  German,  and  they 
were  written  over  with  black  ink  in  English  sen- 


134       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

tences  that  dealt  with  commonplaces,  obviously  de- 
signed to  pass  a  censor. 

"  I  got  yuh,  stranger,"  said  Ma,  looking  down- 
ward and  kicking  at  the  hulk  beneath  him  vigorously 
but  not  very  effectively,  because  Ma  was  still  in  his 
stocking  feet.  "  I  got  yuh.  Yo're  a  spy  all  right, 
damn  yuh !  " 

Ma  next  decided  that  it  would  be  as  well  to  don 
his  shoes. 

"  Now  we'll  see  what  this  thing  has  got  to  say," 
he  remarked,  enjoying  the  situation  extravagantly 
as  he  picked  up  the  dictaphone  and  began  to  listen. 
At  first  no  sound  came  through  at  all,  and  then  what 
did  come  was  so  astonishing  that  Ma  nearly  fell  off 
the  chair. 

"  Well,  whaddaya  know  about  that?  "  he  gasped, 
and  took  the  receiver  from  his  ear  to  gaze  at  it  for 
an  incredulous  moment,  after  which  he  listened 
again. 

"  We  just  naturally  got  to  save  Benny  from  him- 
self," the  voice  was  saying. 

"  Still  chewin'  over  that  idea!  "  muttered  Ma,  a 
twinkle  coming  into  his  eye. 

"  It  seems  like  a  low-down  trick  to  do,"  argued 
another  voice  on  the  wire,  a  voice  that  Ma  instantly 
recognized  as  belonging  to  Dyckman. 

"  It's  the  only  way  to  save  him,"  said  Bilge  sol- 
emnly. "  Old  Ma  was  a-goin'  to  help  me,  but  — 
but  I  think  he's  gone  over  to  the  enemy." 

Ma  reddened  slightly. 

"  He  was  seen  going  into  Mrs.  O'Mahony's  house 
more'n  an  hour  ago,  and  I  went  there  to  ask  for 
him  —  and  Gee!  the  old  woman  chased  me  out. 
Flung  a  kettle  of  boiling  tea  at  me,  to  be  exact. 


Kidnaping  Cupid  135 

Now  here,  Dyckman,  is  the  dope :  It's  all  set  for  the 
wedding  to  come  off  about  nine  to-night,  and  we 
got  to  kidnap  Benny." 

"Say  you,  Bilge!  Say!" 

Ma  tried  frantically  to  break  in  on  the  conversa- 
tion, but  presently  it  was  borne  in  upon  him  that 
this  was  only  a  one-way  wire. 

"  Gosh !  "  he  exclaimed  futilely,  and  went  on 
listening. 

"  But  what's  to  hinder  him  marryin'  the  next  time 
we're  in  ?  "  argued  Dyckman. 

"  Because  there  won't  be  no  next  time  for  Benny. 
He's  on  the  list  that's  goin'  home  with  this  nucleus 
crew  for  a  new  destroyer  to-morrow.  That's  why 
they're  hurryin'  up  with  this  marryin'  business. 
It's  to-night  or  never  for  that  schemin'  little  minx 
that's  got  Benny  snared." 

"  Well  then,  I'll  help  you,"  said  Dyckman  reluc- 
tantly. "  But  I  ain't  very  strong  for  the  job. 
Benny!  Why,  darn  it,  Benny's  about  the  best 
friend  I  got  on  the  ship.     Benny  lends  me  money." 

"  Same  here !  "  affirmed  Bilge  conscientiously. 
"  That's  why  we're  doing  it  for  him.  This  is  just 
a  friendly  act  of  self-sacrifice  on  our  part." 

"  Not  that  Benny's  a-going  to  look  at  it  that  way 
at  all,  in  my  opinion,"  vouchsafed  Dyckman. 
"  However,  what's  the  scheme?  "  * 

"  Simple  enough.  Benny's  got  the  second  dog. 
He's  cleaning  up  some  of  the  captain's  papers  for 
him  and  he's  got  to  stay  till  he  gets  through.  He 
might  get  off  a  little  before  eight,  and  he  might 
not  get  off  till  a  little  after;  but  we  lay  for  him 
when  he  comes  to  the  dock,  meet  him  casual-like, 
start  up  the  hill  with  him,  and  there  at  the  turn  be- 


136       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

yond  Mrs.  O'Callaghan's  store  is  one  of  these  Irish 
blind  alleys.  At  the  end  of  the  alley  is  a  donkey 
stable,  and  over  the  stable  is  a  loft  full  of  straw." 

"  And  I  suppose  I  might  be  excused  for  wonder- 
ing how  you  know  that?  "  said  Dyckman.  "  S'pose 
you  laid  up  there  some  night  when  you  got  seasick 
from  watching  so  many  schooners  crossing  the  bar, 
hey?" 

The  listening  Ma  smiled  at  this,  though  he  knew 
its  intimation  was  base  and  improbable.  Bilge, 
however,  chose  to  overlook  it  as  a  bit  of  harmless 
persiflage,  and  went  forward  with: 

"  We  can  toll  him  into  the  donkey  shed  most 
likely  with  some  excuse  or  other;  we  might  even 
toll  him  up  into  the  hay  if  we're  any  good  on  imag- 
ination —  some  yarn  about  Ma  bein'  sick  up  there 
or  something.  Anyhow,  the  minute  he  stops  tollin' 
we  grab  him,  tie  him  up  and  take  him  up  there  and 
keep  him  nice  and  quiet  till  just  time  to  make  the 
seven-thirty  boat  in  the  morning.  Benny's  reason- 
able. He  won't  make  much  fuss  when  he  finds  we 
simply  ain't  a-goin'  to  let  him  commit  matrimonial 
suicide.     He'll  even  take  it  philosophic." 

"  All  right,"  said  Dyckman,  evidently  won  to  the 
idea.     "  Meet  you  here  at  seven  bells." 

"  Seven  bells  is  right,"  responded  the  satisfied 
tones  of  Bilge;  and  the  conversation  ended. 

"  Why,"  remarked  Ma  within  himself.  "  I  know 
that  donkey  house.  It  ain't  so  far  from  here.  It's 
in  the  middle  of  this  block  somewhere,  and  this  house 
rams  back  into  the  middle  of  the  block.  Blast  me 
if  I  don't  allow  'at  that's  just  about  the  donkey  house 
right  out  the  window  there.  Seems  to  me  I  can 
smell  it.     Ain't  that  a-goin'  to  be  tough,  though? 


Kidnaping  Cupid  137 

Benny  tied  up  right  through  the  wall  from  where 
he's  supposed  to  be  married.  Ain't  it?  "  And  Ma 
smiled  ironically.  "  S'posin'  now  there  was  a  way 
through  to  the  donkey  house  from  here,  and  there 
was  a  trapdoor  in  the  roof  or  something,  which  o' 
course  there  ain't ;  but  supposin'  there  was ! " 

And  then  as  if  halted  by  the  futility  of  such  spec- 
ulation Ma's  mind  turned  to  a  more  pressing  ques- 
tion. 

"  But  say!  Where's  the  other  end  of  this  wire?  " 
he  demanded  aloud,  and  taking  off  the  earpiece 
stared  at  it  inquisitively.  "  In  the  back  room  of 
O'Connor's  pub,  huh  ?  That's  the  only  place  where 
Bilge  and  Dyckman  would  both  meet  up  at  this  time 
of  day.  Good  place  for  a  dictaphone,  too;  for 
there's  more  enlisted  men's  private  chit-chat  in  that 
back  room  than  any  place  else  on  the  beach." 

Looking  down  Ma  noticed  that  his  captive  had 
regained  consciousness,  as  revealed  by  the  beady 
twinkle  of  the  eyes. 

"  In  O'Connor's,  huh  ?  "  he  demanded,  holding 
the  earpiece  to  the  sight  of  the  man  on  the  floor  and 
kicking  his  long  flanks  inquiringly. 

The  man  was  stubborn  at  first  and  would  not 
answer.  Ma  in  consequence  stirred  him  up  more 
earnestly,  whereat  he  grunted  painfully  and  ap- 
peared to  nod  assent. 

"  'Lowed  it,"  said  Ma.  "  'Lowed  it  when  my 
apple  cyart  first  driv  up !  " 

And  he  settled  himself  comfortably  for  another 
prolonged  spell  of  listening,  during  which  he  gained 
an  astounding  conception  of  the  amount  of  informa- 
tion that  may  be  gathered  if  an  alien  ear  were  only 
cocked  to  hear  the  chance  remarks  of  twenty  men 


138        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

in  the  course  of  an  hour  as  they  sat  for  a  few  min- 
utes in  changing  groups  in  the  somewhat  private 
alcove  at  the  rear  of  Jerry  O'Connor's  bar  and  con- 
tributed each  his  choice  bits  of  latest  news  to  the 
sum  of  general  knowledge. 

Ma  learned,  for  instance,  by  piecing  these  bits  of 
news  together,  that  the  U.S.S.  Gallagher  had  that 
day  been  in  contact  with  an  enemy  submarine,  that 
she  had  dropped  depth  charges  on  him  and  crippled 
him  so  that  he  was  able  to  make  way  only  on  the 
surface,  but  that  there  in  open  battle  the  German 
had  planted  a  chance  shell  in  the  engine  room  of  the 
Gallagher,  crippling  her  speed  to  fourteen  knots, 
after  which  the  Hun  mechanic  worked  frantically 
upon  his  damaged  valves  so  that  ultimately  and 
before  the  assistance  the  Gallagher's  radio  had  sum- 
moned could  arrive  the  enemy  was  able  to  submerge 
successfully. 

"  That  shore  is  tough  luck !  "  growled  Ma,  and 
then  paused  to  reflect  and  marvel. 

Nobody  ashore  knew  this  story;  no  sailor  not 
upon  the  Gallagher  herself,  which  was  still  at  sea, 
knew  it  in  its  entirety;  yet  the  gossip  of  enlisted 
men,  each  with  his  little  piece  of  news  that  had 
somehow  come  leaking  from  the  radio  rooms  of 
different  ships,  helped  to  piece  out  the  narrative, 
which,  however  it  might  err  in  details  and  slop  over 
in  exaggerations,  doubtless  approximated  the  gen- 
eral truth;  and  though  the  facts  could  be  of  no 
definite  aid  to  the  enemy,  who  of  course  had  its  own 
source  of  information,  it  nevertheless  pointed  the 
way  to  danger. 

"  Why,  why,"  reflected  Ma,  "  what  this  guy,  a- 
settin'  here  all  day  long,  piecin'  together  the  talk  in 


Kidnaping  Cupid  139 

Jerry  O'Connors  barroom  —  what  he  don't  know 
about  what  the  old  flotilla's  doin'  there  don't  no- 
body need  to  tell  him  at  all.  All  he  requires  is  a 
scheme  for  gettin'  the  old  dope  out;  and  I  reckon 
he's  got  that."  Ma  turned  again  to  a  contemplation 
of  the  array  of  bottles  of  ink  and  chemicals.  "  A 
window  that  looks  out  on  the  harbor,  a  glass  that 
picks  out  the  number  of  every  ship  that  goes  out, 
and  a  dictaphone  that  hears  all  the  gossip  of  the 
flotilla  —  say,  purty  slick,  what!  And  I  got  the 
bird  right  under  my  feet!  But  here,  you  yellow 
dog !  "  —  and  Ma  was  addressing  the  man  on  the 
floor  —  "  you-all  couldn't  do  this  by  yo'se'f.  You 
must  'a'  had  a  partner  to  set  here  listenin'  when  —  " 

The  sailor  did  not  finish  the  sentence ;  the  receiver 
of  the  dictaphone  dropped  with  a  clatter  and  Ma's 
head  fell  forward  under  the  impact  of  a  crushing 
blow  from  behind,  while  crimson  drops  sprayed  the 
sheet  of  blotting  paper  on  the  old  table.  The  third 
figure  in  the  room  stooped  at  once  and  began  cut- 
ting the  gag  from  the  mouth  of  the  prostrate  spy 
and  unbinding  his  hands  and  feet.  The  prostrate 
one  rose  with  ugly  wrath  in  his  small  wicked  eye 
and  kicked  vengefully  in  his  turn  at  the  limp  figure 
in  the  chair.  When  it  collapsed  and  sank  like  a 
sack  of  sand  to  the  floor  the  kicking  was  continued 
maliciously.  It  was  this  kicking  that  Ma  felt  first. 
He  knew  that  his  ribs  were  being  dented  and  splin- 
tered by  something,  but  he  knew  no  more,  for  un- 
consciousness came  again,  and  he  did  not  hear  the 
debate  that  went  on  over  his  senseless  body. 

"  Let  go !  He's  gone !  "  growled  the  second  spy, 
who  as  to  appearance  was  as  roughly  got  up  as  the 
other,  and  who,  sneaking  soft-footed  to  the  door 


140        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

according  to  his  habit,  had  discerned  the  situation 
and  dealt  the  too  venturesome  Ma  a  killing  blow 
with  the  butt  of  his  revolver.  "  You  only  make  him 
bleed,  and  that's  difficult  to  get  rid  of.  He's  dead," 
he  announced,  after  feeling  hastily  for  his  pulse. 

"  What'll  we  do  with  him?  Damn  Yankee 
snoop !  "  inquired  the  first  spy. 

"  At  midnight,  or  before,  even,  it  will  be  easy 
enough  to  slip  him  out  and  drop  him  in  the  bay." 

The  tall  man  looked  at  the  limp  thing  on  the  floor 
and  shuddered.  "  God !  "  he  said.  "  I  don't  want 
it  round  here  till  midnight.     I  have  work  to  do." 

"  Then  we'll  pitch  it  outside  till  it's  safe  to  move 
it  the  rest  of  the  way,"  proposed  the  other  cheer- 
fully.    Together  they  took  "  it "  up. 

But  old  Ma  Ford,  old  only  to  the  extent  of  his 
twenty-seven  vigorous  years,  toughened  by  a  long 
youth  in  the  great  outdoors  of  Texas,  hardened  by 
two  years  as  brakeman  on  a  railroad,  seasoned  by 
one  whole  enlistment  on  that  rummy  old  prune 
barge,  the  cruiser  San  Diego,  and  now  hardened 
again,  case-hardened,  perhaps,  by  a  long  winter  on 
a  United  States  destroyer,  where  in  these  combing 
British  seas  a  man  fought  each  day  for  the  mere 
privilege  of  keeping  on  board  and  doing  his  daily 
duty  —  Ma  was  in  no  danger  of  becoming  an  "  it  " 
from  a  mere  smash  on  the  back  of  his  head  and 
sundry  mulelike  tramplings  of  his  ribs.  Ma,  as 
they  picked  him  up,  was  faintly  conscious. 

"  Didn't  bleed  much,"  said  the  tall  man. 

"  Lucky !  That's  because  I  killed  him  so  dead," 
explained  the  other  blithely. 

"  Serves  him  right ;  damned  Yankee  pig !  " 

But  these  voices  registered  as  no  more  than  con- 


Kidnaping  Cupid  141 

fused  and  distant  murmurings  on  Ma's  disturbed 
mental  apparatus.  Nor  had  he  any  definite  idea 
how  far  they  bore  his  sagging  body,  though  it 
seemed  that  they  carried  him  far  and  through  tor- 
tuous winding  channels,  since  every  sway  and  twist 
was  an  exquisite  bit  of  agony  to  his  pommeled  ribs 
and  bashed  and  aching  head.  At  length,  after  some 
eternities,  they  dropped  him  on  a  pile  of  rocks,  and 
he  lay  wondering  for  ages  and  ages,  with  a  thing 
like  a  chariot  race  going  on  in  the  back  of  his  mind. 

His  mental  state  was  dreamlike  and  unsatisfac- 
tory. His  mind  was  full  of  a  great  regret  —  regret 
that  he  had  let  the  spy  get  away  from  him,  two 
spies  in  fact,  for  there  must  have  been  two,  since 
two  men  were  surely  carrying  him,  and  it  must 
have  been  that  the  second  of  them  had  struck  him 
down  from  behind.  But  bigger  far  was  the  regret 
about  Benny  and  his  wedding.  The  blue  eyes  of 
Minnie,  and  the  too  large  but  wistful  and  wonder- 
fully appealing  mouth,  came  up  before  him  like  a 
dream,  pleadingly. 

"  It  shore  is  a  shame,  honey !  It  shore  is  a 
shame !  "  he  found  himself  trying  to  say  over  and 
over  to  her.  "  That  there  Bilge  Kennedy  ain't  got 
no  more  heart  than  a  concrete  pup,  he  ain't." 

But  saying  this  did  not  in  his  dream  keep  the  two 
tears  out  of  the  eyes  of  the  distressed  woman-child, 
Minnie  O'Mahony,  and  it  did  not  take  the  terrible 
regret  out  of  the  mind  of  Ma.  "  Jest  naturally 
made  a  plain  fool  of  myself;  jest  naturally  did  — 
did  —  did,"  he  kept  saying  to  himself  over  and  over 
again.  "  Busted  me  on  the  bean,  that's  what  they 
did,  huh?   .    .    .   What's  this  yere  I'm  a-layin'  on?  " 

He  thrust  out  an  inquiring  hand. 


142       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  'Tain't  rocks ;  it's  straw ! "  he  soliloquized. 
"  Gosh,  it  felt  like  rocks  at  first.  Easier  now,  what, 
Old  Girl !  Come  near  bashin'  your  bally  brains  out, 
them  spies,  didn't  they?  Thought  they  had,  I 
reckon,  or  they  wouldn't  'a'  quit.  That's  what  you 
can  figure  about  the  Germans  alius  —  alius  make 
some  miscalculation.  First  off  it's  this  drive,  and 
then  it's  that  drive,  and  then  it's  the  U-boats,  and 
then  it's  the  East  Front,  and  then  it's  the  West 
Front,  and  then  it's  them  Eye-talians;  but  there's 
alius  some  figure  lackin'  in  their  addin'  machines. 
Hell !  It's  up  to  us  to  lick  them  Germans,  and  here 
I  am  a-layin'  here." 

Ma  tried  experimentally  to  raise  his  head.  A 
pungent  ammonialike  smell  was  in  his  nostrils.  Ma 
sniffed  it  inquiringly,  reminiscently. 

"  Smells  like  the  donkey  house,"  he  commented. 
"  I  knowed  that  donkey  house  was  somewhere 
round." 

Wearied  by  this  much  mental  effort  the  man 
dropped  off  to  sleep  and  dozed  painfully  but  rest- 
fully  till  wakened  by  an  argument  below,  carried 
on  in  tones  that  sounded  exceedingly  familiar. 

"  Can  it,  Bilge !  "  said  a  stout  voice.  "  You  can't 
string  me  any  further  than  right  here." 

"  I'm  not  stringing  you,  Benny,"  was  asseverated 
in  hurt  tones.  "  He's  right  up  there  over  our  heads 
now." 

"If  he  was  sick  how  in  time  would  he  get  up 
there  ?  "  demanded  the  voice  of  Benny,  suspicious 
and  impatient.     "  I've  got  to  hurry  along." 

"  Ma's  your  best  friend,  except  me,"  reproached 
Bilge ;  "  and  you  won't  climb  four  steps  into  a  hay- 
loft to  answer  his  dying  request." 


Kidnaping  Cupid  143 

"  I  don't  hear  him  breathe  or  moan  or  anything," 
said  Benny  after  a  silence  in  which  he  had  evidently 
been  listening  intently. 

"  He's  probably  too  weak  to  move,"  argued  Bilge 
mendaciously.     "  Maybe  he's  dead  by  now." 

Ma  contrived  a  long,  blithering  sigh. 

"  There !  "  exclaimed  Bilge.     "  Hear  that?  " 

But  there  was  a  tremble  in  Bilge's  voice  as  if  he 
had  seen  a  ghost,  and  his  knees  joggled  each  other 
uncertainly. 

"  That  was  a  donkey,"  theorized  Benny. 

"  It  shore  was,"  Ma  confided  to  himself,  never 
too  overcome  by  any  situation  to  miss  the  humor 
of  it,  especially  when  the  shaft  pointed  at  himself. 

"  Here !  "  proposed  Benny,  exasperated.  "  It's 
getting  near  to  nine  o'clock.  Give  me  the  flash,  and 
in  four  seconds  I'll  prove  that  you're  a  bigger  liar 
than  old  Kaiser  Bill." 

Ma  saw  the  tiny  circle  of  light  flickering  on  the 
rafters  above  him  and  heard  quick  light  feet  on  the 
ladder.  A  moment  later  Benny  stood  in  the  loft 
with  an  incoherent  ejaculation  on  his  lips. 

"  Ma !  For  the  love  of  Mike !  "  he  exclaimed,  sud- 
denly bending  over  the  prostrate  man.  "  Are  you 
dying?" 

"  Thank  you,  Benny,  for  comin',"  said  Ma  faintly. 
"  You  shore  have  done  me  a  good  turn." 

Bilge,  who  had  rushed  hurriedly  up  after  Benny 
with  intent  to  grapple  with  him  there,  barely  escaped 
tumbling  down  the  ladder  in  his  surprise  and  amaze- 
ment at  this  uncanny  confirmation  of  his  supposed 
falsehood,  but  recovered  himself  in  time. 

"Ma!"  he  whispered  hoarsely,  hypocritically. 
"Ma!  Are  you  there  ?  " 


144        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  You  didn't  'low  I  could  git  away  from  here, 
did  you?  "  reproached  the  prostrate  and  dissimulat- 
ing sailor. 

The  quick  inference  that  Ma,  by  some  lucky 
chance  asleep  in  the  old  donkey  house,  had  overheard 
the  colloquy  with  Benny,  swiftly  discerned  the  part 
he  was  to  play  and  was  doing  his  part  like  the  loyal 
soul  he  was,  stimulated  Bilge  to  a  rapid  recovery  of 
his  own  self-possession. 

"  Are  you  able  to  talk  now,  Ma?  Able  to  tell  me 
anything?"  he  inquired  in  tones  that  were  cun- 
ningly freighted  with  the  accents  of  anxious  sym- 
pathy. 

"  Spies !  "  gasped  Ma  faintly.  "  They  hit  me  and 
slung  me  down  here.  Look  for  a  door  somewheres 
round." 

For  a  moment  Bilge  was  overcome  with  fresh 
astonishment,  as  well  as  genuinely  alarmed  at  the 
obvious  condition  of  Ma;  and  then  this  surprising 
word  about  spies  inflamed  his  mind  with  an  instant 
desire  for  action  and  revenge  for  this  assault  upon 
his  friend  and  upon  the  uniform  of  the  United 
States.  Snatching  the  flashlight  from  Benny's  hand 
the  rufous-headed  machinist's  mate  swung  it  round 
him  swiftly,  then  halted  and  steadied  the  tiny  spot  of 
light  straight  before  him  on  a  short  door  of  rough 
planks,  thick  and  old,  but  newly  joined  to  form  a 
door  set  in  an  opening  which  itself  appeared  to 
have  been  recently  chipped  in  the  wall  about  it. 

"  That's  it,"  decided  Ma,  lifting  a  dizzy  head  for 
a  moment.  "  I  never  seen  it  before,  but  that's  it,  I 
reckon,  all  right.  They're  somewhere  to  hell  and 
gone  behind  that  door;  a  room  that  looks  out  on 
the  harbor,  all  fixed  up  with  telescopes,  dictaphones 


Kidnaping  Cupid  145 

and  this  yere  invisible  ink.  I  tied  one  of  'em  up, 
but  the  other  one  clouted  me  and  they  thought  I  was 
dead." 

Bilge  glanced  at  the  door  and  then  at  Ma  breath- 
ing painfully  after  the  effort  of  so  much  speech; 
then  he  swore,  a  low  fervent  oath  that  was  almost 
like  a  prayer,  and  began  to  examine  the  door  criti- 
cally, even  to  thrusting  his  finger  into  the  keyhole, 
which  was  so  huge  that  it  could  have  been  fitted 
only  by  one  of  those  giant  keys  that  unlock  garden 
or  lodge  gates  in  Ireland. 

There  was  no  knob  or  latch  on  the  outside  of  the 
door.  It  offered  nothing  that  afforded  a  hold. 
Bilge  applied  pressure  to  the  door,  gently,  then 
firmly,  and  at  last  violently.  It  sprang  slightly  but 
did  not  yield. 

"  I  better  go  tell  the  constabulary,"  he  decided. 

"  The  constabulary  nothin' !  "  panted  Ma.  "  Run 
quick  and  round  up  a  bunch  of  the  beach  patrol. 
Pick  the  first  three  of  em  you  see,  and  that's  enough. 
Le's  take  these  fellows  in  ourself  and  lead  'em  up 
on  the  hill  and  hand  'em  over  to  the  admiral  —  dicta- 
phones and  invisible  ink  and  letters  and  everything 
—  just  to  show  what  us  Americans  is  like.  He 
likes  us  now,  and  he'll  like  us  all  the  better  then." 

"  But  Benny  —  "  began  Bilge,  involuntarily  giv- 
ing his  paramount  thought  away,  though  the  young 
man  whose  name  had  been  blurted  out  was  too  ex- 
cited by  the  spy  news  and  too  humbled  by  the 
memory  of  his  recent  incredulity  to  notice  it. 

"  Sure !  Benny'll  stay  here  with  me,  won't  you, 
Benny?"  covered  Ma  cannily.  "I  can't  be  left 
alone,  with  these  fellows  liable  to  come  out  any 
minute." 


146       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  Sure,"  said  Benny.  "  I've  got  an  important 
engagement,  but  I'll  stick  here  with  you  till  Bilge 
gets  back." 

"Quick!"  urged  Ma.  "The  birds  might  get 
suspicious  and  hop  the  coop." 

Bilge  in  great  excitement  clambered  down  and 
made  a  hasty  exit. 

"Are  you  much  hurt,  Ma?"  inquired  Benny, 
bending  down  anxiously. 

"Hurt?  I'm  fakin',"  snickered  Ma  in  a  con- 
temptuous whisper.  "  I  got  a  confession  to  make 
to  you,  Benny:  I  and  Bilge  has  been  buttin'  in  on 
your  matrimonial  intentions.  We  didn't  want  you 
to  marry  this  yere  girl  to-night,  and  we  framed  up 
to  git  you  here  and  kidnap  you." 

"  You  darn  hounds !  "  exclaimed  Benny,  bristling 
like  a  terrier  at  sight  of  a  bear. 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  pleaded  Ma.  "  Don't  you  call 
no  names  yet.  I  come  over  to  talk  to  your  little  girl 
this  afternoon  and  try  and  reason  with  her;  but, 
say,  Benny,  she's  just  the  sweetest  thing  I  ever  laid 
eyes  on,  and  if  you  don't  git  down  out  of  this  hay- 
mow and  run  —     What  time  is  it?  " 

"  Five  minutes  to  nine,"  said  Benny,  consulting 
his  wrist. 

"If  you  don't  git  down  out  of  this  donkey  house 
and  strike  round  the  corner  for  the  lovin',  waitin' 
arms  of  Minnie  O'Mahony  I'll  just  about  get  up 
and  knock  your  brains  plumb  out." 

"  Fell  for  her,  hey  ?  Some  girl,  what !  "  Benny 
chuckled  exuberantly ;  and  then  inquired  anxiously : 
"  And  it's  all  a  stall  about  you  being  hurt,  and  the 
spies?  " 

"  Keep  that  there  light  away.     It  hurts  my  eye," 


Kidnaping  Cupid  147 

warned  Ma  in  sudden  fear  that  Benny  might  discern 
a  trace  of  blood  upon  the  straw  at  his  back.  "  Strat- 
egy !  "  he  continued  with  a  grin.  "  When  this  yere 
Bilge  Kennedy  gets  so  bull-headed  you  cain't  reason 
with  him  you  got  to  resort  to  strategy.  Hop  along 
now,  Benny,  and  marry  that  girl,  and  look  out  that 
you  don't  run  into  Bilge  comin'  back,  for  he'll  nab 
you  shore." 

"  Nab  me  ?  "  said  Little  Benny  Riley  indignantly. 
"  Lucky  for  him  he  didn't  nab  me !  Ma,  I  like  you, 
and  I  used  to  like  that  crazy  Bilge,  but  if  you  two  or 
either  of  you  had  interfered  with  me  keeping  faith 
with  Minnie  to-night  I'd  have  assassinated  you; 
that's  what  I'd  have  done  —  assassinated  you!  Get 
me?" 

"  I  get  you,  and  we'd  'a'  deserved  to  be  assassi- 
nated. I  would,  anyhow,  because  I've  seen  the  girl. 
Bilge  wouldn't,  for  he  didn't  have  the  ground  to 
know  no  better.  Skin  out  now.  Leave  me  that 
light!" 

"  What  are  you  going  to  say  to  Bilge  when  he 
comes  back  ?  " 

Benny  had  paused  a  moment  to  rejoice  in  the 
discomfiture  of  the  man  who  had  plotted  so  reck- 
lessly, and  yet  fruitlessly,  against  the  happiness  of 
his  heart. 

"  I  reckon  somep'n'll  occur  to  me  to  say  to  him," 
drawled  Ma.     "  Run  along,  I  tell  you !  " 

11  But  say !  "  proposed  Benny  forgivingly,  "  bring 
him  round  to  supper.  There'll  be  wedding  eats 
about  ten  o'clock.  That'll  be  a  good  way  to  rub 
it  in  on  him." 

"Eats?    Where?" 

"At  the  house!" 


148        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  But  her  mother's  due  to  be  raisin'  the  roof  about 
that  time." 

"  Not  after  Father  Brown  talks  to  her,"  smiled 
Benny  confidently.  "  Ma,  I'm  sure  much  obliged 
for  the  good  turn  you've  done  me  to-night."  And 
the  eager  bridegroom  wrung  his  shipmate's  hand  in 
brief  farewell.  "  Eats  about  ten,"  he  whispered  up 
from  the  direction  of  the  ladder,  and  the  boson's 
mate  heard  him  groping  his  way  outward. 

"  So  far,  durned  good !  "  Ma  reflected  when  the 
prolonged  silence  indicated  that  Benny  had  safely 
departed  to  those  loving  waiting  arms ;  and  then  the 
prostrate  one  began  slowly  to  test  his  capabilities  for 
action. 

He  flexed  first  one  leg  and  then  the  other,  and 
slowly  rolled  over.  As  he  lifted  himself  on  all  fours 
the  soreness  in  his  sides  made  the  beads  of  sweat 
stand  out  on  his  brow,  but  he  persisted,  neverthe- 
less, and  crawling  painfully  to  the  door  examined 
it  carefully  for  himself. 

"  Looks  to  me  like  this  would  be  their  main  en- 
trance," he  soliloquized.  "  How  would  donkey 
drivin'  do  for  a  profession  for  a  couple  of  spies 
anyhow?  'Bout  the  safest  thing  anybody  could 
imagine,  what!  The  inspectors  watch  the  trains 
and  the  ships,  but  do  they  watch  these  country- 
lookin'  guys  that  comes  walkin'  into  town  with  their 
carts  full  of  cabbages  or  spuds  or  whatever  it  is 
that  you  see  'em  all  the  time  haulm'  in  and  out? 
That  fellow  I  saw  was  sure  a  good  imitation  of  a 
farmer,  all  right." 

Ma  sat  back  on  his  knees,  contemplated  the  key- 
hole and  calculated  the  size  of  the  key  that  would 
fit  it. 


Kidnaping  Cupid  149 

11  The  crowbar  that  unlocks  that  door  must  be 
too  big  to  carry  round  with  'em,"  he  reasoned. 
"  They  must  keep  it  hid  about  the  door  here  some- 
where. If  they're  both  inside  it's  inside,  and  if 
one  of  'em  is  out  it's  outside.  My  ma  used  to  leave 
the  key  under  the  doormat,"  his  thought  rambled 
on  as  he  felt  carefully  in  the  straw  and  about  the 
sill  at  the  front  of  the  door.  "  Or  over  on  the  top 
of  the  window  frame."  His  fingers  skirted  the  top 
of  the  door  and  the  sill  beneath  the  rafters  of  the 
donkey  house.  "  Or  " —  and  he  shot  the  tiny  circle 
of  light  aimlessly  about  the  old  loft  —  "  or  some- 
wheres  handy  but  out  of  sight." 

Handy  would  be  anywhere  within  reach  in  a 
progress  from  the  door  to  the  ladder.  Crawling 
along  this  line  across  the  straw  Ma  felt  about  until 
his  hand  encountered  one  of  the  supporting  posts 
of  the  roof.  Pulling  away  the  straw  from  the  base 
of  the  post  his  light  revealed  a  sort  of  shrinkage 
crack  between  post  and  flooring.  In  the  slot  thus 
formed  was  the  key. 

"  'Pears  like  I  ain't  such  a  gosh-danged  fool  after 
all,"  he  murmured  contentedly.  "  'Bout  the  size  of 
the  Judson's  anchor,"  he  commented,  and  sat  up 
balancing  the  key. 

There  came  a  rattling  of  the  hasp  on  the  door 
below  —  a  very  slight  rattling,  but  one  that  Ma's 
ear  caught  quickly,  and  with  instant  presence  of 
mind  he  slipped  the  key  back  into  its  slot,  pushed 
the  straw  over  it,  and  rolled  softly  into  the  position 
in  which  Bilge  and  Benny  had  found  him.  If  this 
was  Bilge  returning  with  reinforcements,  well  and 
good;  but  if  it  was  one  of  the  spies,  all  might  be 
over  with  Ma.     Hence  these  precautions.     And  they 


150        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

were  necessary,  for  he  had  hardly  composed  him- 
self with  the  searchlight  beneath  him,  yet  ready  to 
his  hand,  when  there  were  light  footsteps  on  the 
ladder.  In  another  moment  a  hand  was  groping 
in  the  straw  at  the  base  of  the  post,  and  thereafter 
a  light  was  flashed  carelessly  in  Ma's  direction. 

"  Dead  enough,  damn  him !  "  said  a  voice,  and 
then  the  sailorman  heard  the  key  softly  inserted  in 
the  lock. 

Every  movement  had  been  furtive,  as  if  the  spy 
were  used  by  habit  and  considerable  practice  to 
make  his  way  thus  cautiously  and  swiftly  in  and 
out.  Even  the  door  turned  noiselessly  upon  its 
hinges,  and  closed  with  a  soft  pish  like  the  slow  cut 
of  a  whip  through  the  air.  For  a  few  seconds, 
perhaps  a  full  minute,  Ma  lay  perfectly  still,  and 
then  without  moving  anything  but  an  arm  he  flashed 
on  his  light  and  inspected  the  door.  It  was  closed 
tight  enough,  but  as  his  ears  had  assured  him  it 
had  not  been  relocked.  The  key  still  stood  in  the 
outside. 

"  That  means  he's  comin'  back  soon,"  argued  Ma. 
"  Where  the  devil  is  this  yere  Bilge  ?  I  ain't  never 
been  in  a  hurry  to  see  that  strawberry-headed 
machinist's  mate  but  oncet  or  twicet  in  my  life,  but 
I  begin  to  be  in  a  hurry  now." 

As  if  to  punish  Ma  for  his  impatience  a  donkey 
lifted  up  his  voice  and  brayed,  a  whole-hearted  con- 
fession of  stable  ennui  and  asinine  boredom,  an 
enormous,  strident,  echo-wakening  heehaw  that 
made  more  noise  than  a  siren  on  one  of  the  "  P  " 
boats,  and  startled  the  sailor  so  that  cold  chills 
chased  themselves  up  and  down  his  spine. 

"Don't  do  that  agin,  will  you,   pardner?"  he 


Kidnaping  Cupid  151 

murmured  earnestly.     "  My  nerves  won't  stand  it." 

But  now  came  the  welcome  sound  of  groping  feet 
on  the  cobbles  without,  followed  presently  by  low 
voices  inside.  When  one  of  these  became  recog- 
nizable as  belonging  to  Bilge,  Ma  reached  over  with 
his  flashlight  and  sent  its  rays  down  the  ladder. 

"  That  you,  Benny?  "  inquired  Bilge. 

"  Git  up  here  quick ! "  ordered  Ma  sharply. 
"  You  might  'a'  tuck  all  night." 

"  I  wanted  to  get  my  particular  three  patrols," 
apologized  Bilge.  "  Think  I'd  let  anybody  else  but 
Judson  men  cop  off  the  D.C.M.'s  on  this  raid?" 
And  there  climbed  into  the  light  Wart  Kessler, 
Elbert  Owens  and  Kid  Maguire,  each  uniformed  as 
the  flotilla  beach  patrol  is  uniformed,  in  blues  plus 
khaki  belts  and  leggings,  each  with  his  short  police- 
man's club  gripped  tightly,  and  all  very  excited  and 
determined. 

Bilge's  return  was  also  reenforced  by  the  person 
of  Dyckman,  looking  rather  sheepish  through  hav- 
ing missed  connections  at  first  and  leaving  Bilge 
alone  as  the  executive  of  their  doubtful  purpose  upon 
the  person  of  Little  Benny  Riley. 

"  Hur-r-r-s-s-sh !  "  whispered  Ma  as  Bilge's  tones 
grew  too  loud.  "  One  feller's  come  back.  He's  left 
the  key  in  the  door,  so  they  must  figure  on  comin' 
out  in  a  minute,  prob'ly  to  carry  my  remains  to  the 
reduction  works." 

"  What  do  we  do  then  ?  "  inquired  Wart,  who 
assumed  leadership  of  the  trio.  "  What's  the  idea?  " 

"  Why,  we  just  stick  round,"  explained  Ma,  his 
voice  rambling  as  indicating  the  development  of 
no  clear  campaign  of  action ;  "  and  when  he  comes 
back  we  bust  him  on  the  beezer.     Don't  hesitate 


152        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

none,  you-all  fellers,  but  bust  him !  He  put  a  lump 
as  big  as  an  ash  can  on  my  after  dome  and  I  bled 
round  like  a  stuck  pig;  besides  which  the  other  guy 
kicked  in  my  slats  so's  my  insides  is  all  disarranged 
and  I  cain't  set  up  hardly.  Stand  not  upon  the 
order  of  your  bustin'  either,  but  bust  at  once,  the 
minute  he  opens  the  door." 

"  Isn't  there  some  other  way  out  of  this  hole  of 
theirs  ?  "  inquired  Bilge. 

"  There  is,"  recalled  Ma.  "  There  is  at  least  one 
other  way ;  and  here,  I  reckon,  is  a  better  idea  than 
just  waitin'  for  this  guy  to  come  back :  You  patrols 
go  round  to  Mrs.  O'Mahony's.  The  house  is  empty; 
most  likely  it's  not  locked.  Go  in  and  go  upstairs, 
turn  to  the  left  —  left,  remember  —  and  you'll  find  a 
door  there.  Go  into  a  kind  of  storeroom  like,  full 
of  the  ghosts  of  cast-off  furniture,  and  take  off  your 
shoes  and  keep  still.  Don't  go  gropin'  round,  but 
wait,  or  you'll  fall  over  something  and  give  the  snap 
away.  When  you  hear  the  devil  of  a  row  in  front 
of  you,  why,  crash,  and  crash  quick,  for  that  means 
that  Bilge  and  Dyckman  is  in  there  givin'  'em  both 
the  Kaiser's  saloot.  You  know  what  that  is,  don't 
you?" 

The  three  patrols  grinned  appreciatively  and  pre- 
pared again  to  descend  the  ladder,  when  the  now 
hypersensitive  ear  of  Ma  detected  a  sound  some- 
where back  behind  the  door. 

"Whist!  Too  late!  They're  comin'  out,"  he 
whispered,  and  relapsed  once  more  into  the  rigid 
figure  of  death,  dousing  the  flashlight  with  a  final 
wiggle  of  his  thumb  as  Bilge,  Dyckman  and  the 
three  patrolmen  flattened  themselves  against  the 
wall  on  either  side  of  the  door. 


Kidnaping  Cupid  153 

After  as  much  as  a  minute,  perhaps,  the  door 
opened  softly,  and  a  man  holding  a  light  in  front 
of  him  came  out,  and  as  if  his  business  were  with 
that  grim  presence  yonder  he  pointed  the  luminous 
spot  at  the  recumbent  body  of  the  sailor  and  moved 
two  steps  toward  it,  when  Ma  casually  opened  his 
eyes.  The  man  started  with  a  wheezing  gasp  at 
the  spectacle  of  the  dead  awakening,  and  involun- 
tarily recoiled,  at  the  same  time  passing  the  light 
to  his  left  hand  while  the  right  reached  for  his  hip 
pocket.  It  engaged,  however,  instead  of  the  grip 
of  an  automatic,  the  iron  hand  of  Bilge. 

"  Quiet  now,"  said  Bilge  soothingly.  "  Germany's 
game  is  up.    This  is  where  Uncle  Sam  takes  on." 

Dyckman  at  the  same  moment  closed  upon  the 
hand  holding  the  flashlight,  in  the  rays  of  which, 
lifted  for  a  moment  as  the  spy  struggled,  he  had  a 
vision  of  three  men  in  navy-patrol  uniform  with 
clubs  poised  above  his  head,  and  a  shriek,  half  in 
terror  and  half  in  warning,  broke  from  the  throat 
of  the  astounded  man. 

"  Look  out  behind ! "  ordered  Ma  sharply ;  and 
the  three  patrolmen,  leaping  the  struggling  heap 
where  the  spy  was  being  borne  to  the  floor,  followed 
a  patter  of  scudding  footsteps  back  along  a  passage 
and  in  where  a  door  was  slammed  suddenly  in  their 
faces. 

"  Bust  it ! "  roared  Ma,  who  had  come  tottering 
after  with  his  light.     "  Bust  it  quick !  " 

The  patrolmen  threw  themselves  against  it  stoutly, 
but  it  resisted  all  advances  till,  Bilge  and  Dyckman, 
coming  in  with  a  sullen  prisoner,  Bilge  added  his 
weight  determinedly,  and  the  panel  crashed  in. 

"  He  went  yon  way,  I  reckon,"  said  Ma,  groping 


154       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

excitedly  for  the  door  in  the  opposite  wall;  but  the 
fugitive  had  taken  advantage  of  the  delay  at  the 
other  door  to  barricade  this  one  by  setting  a  trunk 
or  chest  behind  it,  so  that  the  patrolmen  were  still 
engaged  in  forcing  a  passage  here  when  shriek  on 
shriek  came  agonizing  up  from  somewhere  beyond 
and  below. 

u  Poco  pronto,  there !  "  prayed  Ma.  "  He's  mur- 
derin'  Mrs.  O'Mahony.  There's  stairs  beyond  the 
other  door.     Git  down  quick !  " 

Notwithstanding  his  weakened  condition,  how- 
ever, he  managed  to  clatter  down  the  stairs  almost 
upon  the  heels  of  the  patrolmen,  his  blood  congealing 
at  the  thought  of  the  carnage  his  eyes  would  en- 
counter. Instead,  he  beheld  the  fugitive  prostrate 
and  helpless,  with  Mrs.  O'Mahony  towering  over, 
menacing  the  man  with  the  poker,  with  which  she 
had  evidently  felled  him,  and  upbraiding  her  captive 
in  words  of  reviling  and  tones  of  exultation. 

"  Ye  thaf  e !  Ye  burglar !  Ye  murtherin'  Hun ! 
To  come  sneakin'  and  stealin'  down  through  people's 
houses,"  she  panted  hoarsely.  "  Ye  tried  to  kill  me, 
so  ye  did !  Ye  pushed  me  head  agin  the  wall  hard 
enough  to  crack  the  nut  of  me,  ye  did;  and  it's  the 
deil's  own  child  ye  are  by  the  look  av  ye." 

Her  eyes  grew  large  and  round  when  she  beheld 
the  four  sailors  tumbling  down  upon  her. 

"  Mercy !  Mercy  me !  "  she  breathed.  "  Where 
the  old  scratch  did  ye  drop  from,  I  want  to  know  ?  " 

11  This  yere  man's  a  German  spy  'at  you've  caught, 
Mrs.  O'Mahony,"  said  Ma  politely. 

"A  German  spy,  is  it?"  she  demanded  fiercely. 
"  Wid  me  own  Terence  a  corpril  in  the  Royal  Irish 
Fusiliers ! " 


Kidnaping  Cupid  155 

Mrs.  O'Mahony  made  as  if  she  would  demolish 
the  spy's  head  entirely  with  another  blow  of  her 
poker,  whereat  the  fellow  howled  and  pleaded. 

"  We  nabbed  another  in  the  donkey  house,"  ex- 
plained Ma,  "  and  was  chasin'  this  one  through  some 
kind  of  a  misfit  furniture  store  upstairs." 

"  The  retirin'  room  of  McCarthy's  ghost  these 
twinty  years ! "  explained  Mrs.  O'Mahony,  still 
laboring  under  great  excitement.  Sure  and  I 
thought  'twas  old  McCarthy  himself  when  he  come 
at  me  first,  till  I  see  these  little  weasel  eyes  that  was 
never  on  any  McCarthy,  alive  or  dead." 

There  came  a  thunderous  banging  on  the  door 
outside.  "  Open !  Leave  open  in  the  name  of  the 
King !  "  was  bawled  sonorously  and  long. 

"  Mercy !  Mercy  me !  "  quavered  Mrs.  O'Mahony, 
glancing  weakly  from  one  face  to  another  and  then 
at  the  closed  door. 

"In  the  sacrid  name  of  the  King!"  roared  the 
voice  again;  and  the  pounding  began  once  more 
upon  the  door. 

"  Open  it !  Open  it  quick ! "  besought  Mrs. 
O'Mahony,  who  seemed  at  this  dread  hail  to  have 
lost  the  power  of  action. 

Wart  Kessler  opened  the  door,  and  a  man  entered 
wearing  the  uniform  of  an  army  officer,  while 
behind  him  appeared  the  sergeant  who  had  done 
the  knocking  and  the  bawling,  and  who  was  backed 
by  a  squad  of  men  in  khaki,  with  a  glitter  of  brass 
buttons  and  fixed  bayonets.  The  officer  was  Cap- 
tain Hobbes,  a  red-headed,  blue-eyed,  quick-thinking 
boy  of  twenty-four,  who  was  a  veteran  of  Meso- 
potamia, of  Egypt  and  the  Somme,  and  who,  with 
fourteen  punctures  by  shrapnel  healing  in  his  anat- 


156        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

omy,  rested  from  actual  fighting  and  kept  a  sharp 
eye  out  at  this  important  post  for  enemies  of  the 
Empire. 

"  I  am  sorray,  Bridget  O'Mahony,"  said  the  cap- 
tain in  a  bored  sort  of  way,  "  but  it  has  become 
necessary  to  arrest  you  for  harboring  spies  in  your 
house." 

"  Harborin'  spies,  is  it?  "  gasped  Mrs.  O'Mahony 
weakly.  "  There's  niver  been  a  man  in  this  house 
in  weeks  excipt  this  craychure  here  wid  his  bleedin' 
head,  where  I  give  him  a  knock  wid  me  poker." 

At  this  juncture  Bilge  and  Dyckman,  who  had 
paused  to  make  their  prisoner  secure  by  the  tying 
of  his  hands,  came  down  the  stairs  and  crowded  into 
the  little  room. 

"  For  the  love  of  St.  Patrick !  "  wheezed  Mrs. 
O'Mahony,  who  was  growing  apoplectic. 

"  This  yere's  the  other  one,  captain,"  announced 
Ma,  with  a  gesture  of  turning  over  the  two  prison- 
ers. "  I  got  suspicious  of  these  birds  here  this 
afternoon,  and  we  been  layin'  for  'em." 

"  Good  work,  men,"  said  Captain  Hobbes  briefly, 
looking  a  bit  surprised. 

Bilge,  having  thoughtfully  brought  along  an  arm- 
ful of  evidence  in  the  way  of  the  receiving  end  of 
a  dictaphone  and  a  rather  recklessly  selected  mis- 
cellany of  letters,  bottles  and  chemicals  from  the 
desk,  passed  the  whole  over  to  a  man  designated  by 
the  sergeant  to  receive  it. 

"  'Pears  to  me,"  reproved  Ma  in  that  slow  way 
of  his,  "  that  you-all  are  sort  of  careless  when  you 
let  guys  like  that  come  into  town  and  carry  on  the 
way  they  been  carryin'  on." 

"  It  may  interest  you,  Mister  Yankee  Sailor,"  said 


Kidnaping  Cupid  157 

Captain  Hobbes  crisply,  "  to  know  that  we  have 
been  keen  after  these  fellows  since  before  they  came 
here  from  Dublin.  We  have  read  every  line  that 
went  to  them  before  they  read  it.  We  have  read 
every  line  they  sent  out.  We  have  a  nice  scrapbook 
of  all  the  cute  little  letters  they  have  been  writing 
with  invisible  ink.  We  have  only  been  waiting  for 
their  affiliations  to  develop,  and  we  were  getting 
ready  to  take  them  to-night.     In  fact  — " 

Captain  Hobbes  paused  dramatically  and  lifted 
his  hand,  for  again  there  was  noise  and  clatter  above, 
banging  rifle  butts,  rattle  of  scabbards  and  clumping 
of  hobnailed  shoes,  following  which  a  corporal  and 
a  squad  of  soldiers  came  crowding  eagerly  down  the 
stair. 

"  Gosh !  "  conceded  Bilge  admiringly.  "  You  fel- 
lers are  on  the  job  all  right !  " 

"  But  we  just  naturally  beat  you  to  it,  like  us 
Americans  always  does,"  boasted  Ma,  childishly 
proud  of  his  achievement.  "  I  never  seen  these 
birds  till  five  o'clock,  and  yere  I  hand  'em  over  to 
you  and  all  the  evidence  at  somewheres  about  a 
quarter  to  ten." 

'*  You  Americans  are  very  wonderful,"  admitted 
Captain  Hobbes,  smiling  good-naturedly,  as  though 
he  were  amused  rather  than  offended  at  this  exhibi- 
tion of  Yankee-sailor  assurance. 

"  We  wouldn't  'a'  been  so  darn  wonderful, 
though,  if  Mrs.  O'Mahony  didn't  knock  this  guy 
down  with  a  poker,  thinkin'  he  was  a  burglar,"  Ma 
admitted  honestly.  "  He  would  'a'  got  plumb  away. 
You  ain't  so  certain  about  wantin'  to  arrest  her  now, 
in  them  circumstances,  are  you?  " 

"  Perhaps  not,"  confessed  Captain  Hobbes,  and 


158       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

summoned  his  sergeant  and  the  corporal  into  con- 
ference by  a  nod  of  the  chin  and  a  stride  toward  a 
corner  a  little  apart. 

Succeeding  this  conference  the  corporal  and  six 
men  marched  off  with  the  prisoners  and  the  evi- 
dence, while  the  captain  ordered  the  balance  of  his 
force  up  the  stairs  to  conclude  the  raiding  of  the 
spy's  nest  and  made  ready  to  follow  after. 

"  We  shall  require  your  statements  at  headquar- 
ters to-morrow,"  he  announced  to  the  sailors. 

"  We  shore  would  love  to  come,  but  I  reckon  that 
there's  a  subject  on  which  you-all  would  wish  to 
consult  our  force  commander,"  said  Ma  with  great 
dignity. 

"  It  is,"  said  the  captain  briefly.  "  Take  the  men's 
names,"  he  nodded  to  the  sergeant;  and  when  this 
was  done,  he  followed  his  squad  clomp-clomp,  rattle- 
rattle,  up  the  stairs. 

"  It's  about  time  we  got  back  on  our  beat,"  sug- 
gested Wart. 

"  It  sure  is,"  agreed  the  two  other  patrolmen,  and 
they  hustled  away,  leaving  Ma,  Bilge  and  Dyckman 
confronting  Mrs.  O'Mahony,  who,  gradually  recov- 
ering from  her  emotions  of  fear,  excitement  and 
surprise,  seemed  now  to  wonder  what  excuse  for 
remaining  this  final  trio  of  her  guests  could  muster. 

"  Don't  appear  that  we-all  have  got  any  particular 
business  intrudin'  on  you,  Mis'  O'Mahony,  a-clut- 
terin'  up  yore  settin'  room,"  recognized  Ma.  "  With 
your  kind  permission  we'll  borry  the  front  door  to 
git  out  of !  " 

"  Help  yourself !  "  said  Mrs.  O'Mahony  rather 
dryly.     "  Help  yourself !  " 

"  Benny !  "  blurted  Bilge  suddenly,  with  an  in- 


Kidnaping  Cupid  159 

quiring  eye  bent  on  Ma.  "  What  become  of 
Benny?" 

"  Benny !  "  exclaimed  Ma.  "  By  golly,  Benny ! 
I  plumb  forgot  about  Benny.  I  ain't  thought  about 
him  for  nigh  onto  an  hour.  You  know  anything 
about  Benny,  Mrs.  O'Mahony  ?  " 

"  'Deed  and  I  don't !  "  snapped  Mrs.  O'Mahony 
shortly,  and  then  looked  toward  the  door,  for  it 
appeared  that  another  descent  of  some  sort  was 
about  to  be  made  upon  her  privacy. 

There  was  a  note  of  revelry  outside,  of  quick 
steps,  of  rapid-fire  conversation,  interspersed  with 
snatches  of  song  and  excited  laughter,  succeeding 
which  there  framed  itself  in  the  upper  half  of  the 
door,  which  had  been  left  open  by  the  departing 
patrolmen,  the  florid,  amiable  face  of  Father  Brown, 
with  just  the  faintest  trace  of  a  guilty  conscience 
in  his  eye,  as  he  gazed  toward  Mrs.  O'Mahony  with 
an  embarrassed  cough  and  an  apologetic  look  upon 
his  kindly  features. 

"  Good  evenin'  to  ye,  Father  Brown !  "  said  the 
widow,  dropping  a  very  humble  curtsy.  "  Sure  and 
I  suppose  'tis  your  own  sweet,  innocent  soul  that's 
heard  about  the  goin's  on  in  me  house  to-night  and 
has  been  outraged  by  it." 

"Mrs.  O'Mahony!"  replied  Father  Brown  with 
a  swelling  voice  and  a  determined  air,  as  if  both  to 
cry  that  voluble  lady  down  and  to  get  a  doubtful 
business  over,  "  I  have  this  night  married  your 
daughter  Minnie  to  Mr.  Benjamin  Riley,  the  Yankee 
sailor!" 

"  Father  Brown !  "  gasped  Mrs.  O'Mahony,  and 
became  immediately  speechless  with  dismay  and  con- 
sternation.    Yet  the  reproach  that  for  a  moment 


160        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

was  in  her  eye  faded  out  before  the  bland,  steady 
gaze  of  her  spiritual  counselor. 

"  I  thought  it  best,"  said  the  priest  benignly.  "  Ye 
were  far  too  hot  against  the  lad.  He  will  be  a  true 
son  to  ye  and  a  faithful  husband  to  Minnie.  Good 
night,  Mrs.  O'Mahony." 

"  Father,  father!  "  urged  Mrs.  O'Mahony,  cring- 
ing as  she  detected  the  note  of  rebuke.  "  Ye  will 
not  misjudge  me,  will  ye  that?  I  always  liked  the 
Riley  lad.     'Twas  only  that  Patsy  Cadogan  —  " 

"  Benny  Riley  is  your  daughter's  husband  now," 
interrupted  the  father  with  his  most  beatific  smile; 
"  and  here  he  is  with  his  bride,  and  ne'er  a  sweeter 
one  ever  did  I  see." 

Under  the  tall  priest's  arm,  as  if  they  had  been 
hiding  behind  the  skirts  of  his  soutane,  appeared 
Benny  and  Minnie.  Mrs.  O'Mahony  with  moth- 
erly arms  gathered  them  both  unhesitatingly  to  her 
bosom,  bestowing  presently  a  kiss  on  Benny  that 
knocked  off  his  round  sailor  hat  and  added  greatly 
to  his  embarrassment,  a  state  of  mind  which  he  cov- 
ered somewhat  by  waving  his  hand  out  the  door  and 
shouting  into  the  darkness,  "  Pedro !  Bring  in  the 
eats!" 

Immediately  there  presented  himself  the  Filipino 
cook  of  the  U.  S.  Destroyer  Judson,  with  his  assist- 
ants Juan  and  Eduardo,  grinning  under  burdens  of 
various  suggestive  shapes.  Following  them  crowded 
in  half  a  dozen  other  American  sailors,  Jimmie  Jur- 
genson  and  Bunny  Mclntyre  leading,  and  each  with 
an  Irish  girl  by  his  side. 

Mrs.  O'Mahony  fell  back  abashed,  murmuring 
incoherently,  while  the  Filipino  trio  took  possession 
of  the  table  and  began  to  build  it  out  with  other  bits 


Kidnaping  Cupid  161 

of  adaptable  furniture,  and  to  spread  thereon  a 
destroyer  cook's  notion  of  a  wedding  supper  in 
Ireland. 

"  Glory  be!  "  sighed  the  widow  as  the  feeling  of 
helplessness  and  surrender  to  the  inevitable  surged 
again  and  again  over  her  surprised  and  but  recently 
embattled  soul. 

"  Sure  and  the  Yankees  is  takin'  everything,"  she 
declared  resignedly.  "  A  minute  ago  they  was 
takin'  spies  in  me  attic  and  bringin'  the  house  down 
about  me  head.  Now  they  might  as  well  take  my 
daughter  and  be  done  with  it.  Why,  Father  Brown, 
if  one  of  these  young  sprigs  should  propose  voy- 
lently  to  marry  me,  I  have  no  sperrit  left  in  me 
widowed  heart  that  I  should  prevint  them."  The 
lady  laughed  hysterically. 

"  I  believe  ye,  Mrs.  O'Mahony,"  chortled  the 
priest.  "  I  have  long  perceived  in  yer  conversation, 
though  ye  did  not  perceive  it  yourself,  that  ye  had 
a  secret  admiration  for  the  Yanks." 

"  Durned  if  I  ever  'lowed  anybody  could  call  me 
a  Yank  half  a  dozen  times  in  one  night  and  get  away 
with  it,"  muttered  Ma,  of  Texas,  under  his  breath. 

"  This  one  in  particular  I've  took  a  likin'  to," 
said  Mrs.  O'Mahony,  indicating  the  hunched  and 
suffering  Ma. 

"  Yes,"  retorted  that  one  dryly.  "  You-all  took 
a  likin'  to  me  this  afternoon.  You  was  aimin'  for 
to  express  it  with  a  bar  mop." 

"  Oh !  Acushla !  "  laughed  Mrs.  O'Mahony.  "  Ye 
should  not  hold  an  old  woman's  playful  disposition 
against  her.    You  Yanks  is  playful  yourself." 

And  the  lady  moved  off  among  her  guests  with 
some  waking  realization  of  the  circumstances  that 


162       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

just  now  obtained  in  her  home,  and  that  she  owed 
some  obligations  to  the  company  in  general. 

"  Ma,"  said  Benny  with  a  fond  handshake,  "  if  it 
wasn't  for  you  we  might  not  be  so  happy  all  of  us 
to-night." 

And  the  bridegroom  turned  a  reproachful  gaze  on 
the  rapt  and  transported  Bilge,  who  from  the  mo- 
ment his  eyes  fell  upon  the  bride  had  suffered  a 
strange  fluttery  feeling  on  the  port  side  of  his  bosom. 

"  Ma?  Him?  "  retorted  Bilge,  darkling  quickly; 
"  he  nagged  me  into  the  scheme  himself.  If  it 
wasn't  for  that  old  horned  toad  I  would  'a'  been  your 
best  man." 


IV 
BILGE  AND  MA  GET  A  SUB 

"  It's  a  matter  of  luck,"  declared  Ma.  "  Fool 
luck  at  that !  " 

"  It's  a  matter  of  brains  and  initiative,"  argued 
Bilge  stoutly. 

"  How  are  you  goin'  to  maintain  that,"  retorted 
Ma,  "  when  the  Judson  hain't  sighted  a  healthy  oil 
slick  even  in  two  months,  and  the  McDonald  got  two 
subs  in  two  weeks?  Don't  you  allow  'at  Captain 
Bill  has  got  as  much  brains  and  initiative  as  that 
three-striper  nicknamed  Fuzzy  who  skippers  the 
McDonald  ?  Ain't  the  Judson  a  better  boat  than  the 
McDonald ?    Ain't  she  got  a  better  crew  ?  " 

"  She's  got  you,  Ma,"  admitted  Bilge  with  a  mis- 
chievous wink  at  Dyckman;  "and  that's  sure  one 
big  advantage." 

"  And  she's  got  you,  Bilge ;  and  that  shore  is  one 
mighty  big  handicap.  It's  a  matter  o'  luck,  I  tell 
you,  and  you're  the  Jonah.  Why  don't  you  get 
yourself  transferred  or  picked  for  one  of  these 
nucleus  crews  that's  goin'  home  all  the  time  for  new 
boats?  Captain  Bill's  dyin'  to  git  shed  of  you,  and 
he  just  naturally  ain't  got  the  heart  to  tell  you  so." 

"  How  do  you  reckon  that  he's  dying  to  get  rid 
of  me  ?  "  cross-examined  Bilge. 

"  Well,  wasn't  you  at  the  throttle  when  we  salted 
up  that  last  time  ?  " 

"  And  I  suppose,  you  durn  deck  washer,  you 
think  it  was  the  man  at  the  throttle's  fault  when 


164        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

that  tube  in  the  condenser  splits  and  we  salt  up, 
hey?"  retorted  Bilge  scornfully.  "That's  just 
about  the  level  of  your  intelligence,  ain't  it  now?  " 

"  I'm  not  talkin'  about  intelligence,"  responded 
Ma.  "  I  just  naturally  admit  that  I  ain't  got  none 
or  I  wouldn't  never  'a'  sailed  on  a  destroyer  in  these 
here  pirate-infested  European  waters  with  a  man 
like  you  in  the  engine  room.  Why  say,  Bilge,  if  we 
was  to  sight  a  submarine  —  if  we  was  to  get  a  real 
good  chance  to  just  naturally  back  right  up  and  drop 
an  ash  can  on  one,  and  you  was  the  only  man  on 
board  that  could  drop  the  can,  why,  we  couldn't  find 
you  nowheres  round.  You'd  be  off  up  in  the 
fo'castle  head  asleep,  or  playin'  with  your  pet  rat, 
or  figurm'  out  one  of  them  wonderful  schemes  of 
yourn  for  puttin'  salt  on  the  tail  of  a  submarine  and 
catchin'  him  in  your  mother's  apron." 

"  A  submarine  could  be  caught,  with  a  little  in- 
genooity — «  that's  what  I  argue,"  persisted  Bilge, 
catching  at  the  thread  of  some  past  discussion.  "  I 
say  that  a  submarine  is  the  most  helpless  fish  that 
floats  in  the  sea,  and  that  if  you  went  at  'em  right 
you  could  take  'em  practically  with  your  bare 
hands." 

"  And  I  allow  then,"  resumed  Ma,  "  that  if  the 
chance  ever  comes  for  you  to  git  a  submarine  you'll 
just  naturally  jump  in  and  pitch  him  out,  the  way 
we-all  pitch  out  a  catfish  down  in  my  country  when 
the  streams  git  dry." 

"  I  never  said  nothin'  like  it,"  maintained  Bilge 
stubbornly.  "  But  I  got  my  idea.  I  said  they  was 
helpless  and  they  could  be  gathered  in  alive." 

Ma  relapsed  into  an  amused  silence  and  the  meas- 
ured puffing  of  his  pipe,  while  he  contemplated  his 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  165 

friend  with  an  air  of  affectionate  indulgence.  Bilge 
finding  himself  no  longer  opposed  turned  after  a 
concluding  grunt  to  fumble  in  his  locker  for  pencil 
and  paper,  after  finding  which  he  sat  upon  the  locker, 
with  his  ditty  box  in  his  lap  for  a  writing  table,  and 
bent  himself  to  the  development  of  a  poetic  theme 
which  had  been  running  through  his  head  all  day 
and  had  to  do  with  setting  forth  the  spirit  and 
prowess  of  the  enlisted  men  of  the  destroyer 
flotilla. 

For  a  time  something  approaching  silence  reigned 
in  the  fo'castle  where  the  recent  debate  had  taken 
place.  Men  crouched  or  lounged  about  on  their 
sea  chests,  reading,  writing,  or  playing  cards  —  with 
frequent  muttered  ejaculations  —  or  they  pulled 
down  their  swinging  bunks  of  wire  and  crawled 
creakingly  into  them  to  sink  to  slumber. 

"  Here !  "  proclaimed  Bilge,  after  mayhap  half 
an  hour  of  tongue-biting  labor.  "  Lamp  these  lines, 
will  you?  "  And  he  lifted  a  soiled  sheet  of  paper 
and  began  to  declaim : 

Ho,  we  fight  with  our  hands  and  we  fight  with  our  feet, 

We  fight  with  our  heads  and  our  hearts ; 
Ho,  we  slam  the  Hun  and  we  slam  him  neat 

With  a  bomb  in  his  innard  parts. 

"  Durned  good,  Bilge !  "  vouchsafed  Ma.  "  Who- 
all  did  you  copy  that  off  of  ?  " 

"I  didn't  copy  it,"  protested  Bilge.  "Got  her 
up  myself.  Ain't  she  some  sweet  little  ditty, 
though?  Now  if  I  could  get  a  tune  to  her  we  could 
sing  it.    How  was  one  of  those  marching  tunes  —  " 

"  But  say !  "  Ma  broke  in  to  resume  the  thread  of 
the  old  argument,     "  'With  a  bomb  in  their  innarcj 


166       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

parts/  That  ain't  takin'  'em  alive,  you  know,  old 
red-top." 

Bilge  paused,  sucking  his  stub  of  a  pencil  and 
frowning  at  the  alleged  inconsistent  line. 

"  But,  friend  of  my  heart,"  he  retorted  presently, 
"we'd  bomb  'em  after  we  took  'em,  wouldn't  we? 
You  would  never  do  nothing  to  one  of  these  unter- 
wasser  pirates  but  bomb  him,  would  you  ?  " 

"  I  wouldn't  —  no !  "  responded  Ma  decisively. 

"  You  bet  it's  good !  "  admitted  Bilge  modestly  as 
he  hummed  over  the  lines. 

"  George  Cohan  got  twenty-five  thousand  for 
'  Over  There,'  "  suggested  Ma  dryly,  as  he  noted  the 
care  with  which  Bilge  deposited  his  effusion  in  his 
ditty  box  and  then  inserted  the  ditty  box  in  the  sea 
chest. 

"  This  is  prob'ly  too  good  poetry  to  make  a  pop- 
ular song,"  conceded  Bilge,  not  noting  the  subtle 
poison  of  mockery  in  Ma's  remark;  "but  the  gobs 
in  the  flotilla  will  all  be  hummin'  it  in  a  week  —  just 
as  soon  as  I  find  the  right  tune  to  it." 

Bilge  pulled  down  his  sleeping  apparatus  from  its 
moorings  overhead  and  rolled  into  it  to  blissful 
slumber,  knowing  with  his  last  waking  moment  that 
delicious  glow  which  pervades  the  tissues  of  the 
creative  artist  in  the  hour  of  glorious  consummation. 

But  while  Bilge  and  Ma  and  their  comrades 
slumbered  Captain  Bill  and  Captain  Fuzzy  fore- 
gathered in  a  corner  of  the  Royal  Yacht  Club  with 
other  destroyer  captains,  and  consumed  much  Brit- 
ish good  cheer  as  they  recounted  their  joys,  their 
hopes  and  their  hard  luck.  Captain  Fuzzy  of  them 
all  was  in  most  exultant  mood,  for  the  fishing  had 
been  poor  of  late  with  his  companions. 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  167 

"  I'll  bet  you,  Bill,"  he  said  —  this  Captain  Fuzzy 
of  the  McDonald,  who  had  got  two  submarines  in 
two  weeks,  to  Captain  Bill  of  the  Judson,  who  had 
not  seen  a  live  oil  slick  in  six  —  "  I'll  bet  you  five 
pounds  the  McDonald  gets  her  third  sub  before  you 
get  the  first." 

"Oh,  oh!  Hear  him!  The  swank  of  him!" 
jeered  the  crowd. 

"  Take  you !  "  said  Captain  Bill,  his  smooth  hard 
jaws  knitting  a  bit  snappishly;  whereupon  the 
slightly  stimulated  convivialists  turned  ficklely  on 
him  with  some  lugubrious  lines  which  had  reference 
to  an  exceedingly  weird  report  of  Captain  Bill's 
about  a  supposed  encounter  with  a  supposed  sub- 
mersible of  the  Kaiser's  back  in  the  early  days  of 
the  war  —  meterless  rimes  which  began  with  reciting 
that: 

Last  night  over  by  Aberdeen 

I  saw  a  German  submarine ; 

The  funniest  sight  I  ever  seen 

Was  Old  Bill  Bradshaw's  submarine ! 

There  were  other  stanzas,  but  they  were  in  kind, 
and  the  composition  was  so  bad  that  nobody  had 
the  ill  taste  to  finish  it;  so  they  lifted  their  grape- 
juice  glasses  and  pledged  a  health  to  Captains  Bill 
and  Fuzzy  and  all  other  good  three-stripers  who 
took  the  sea  in  the  morning  to  do  battle  with  the 
elements  and  the  Hun. 

Five  o'clock  next  morning  found  the  officers  of  the 
Judson  gathering  in  the  wardroom  for  a  waking  cup 
of  coffee  and  a  staying  slice  of  toast.  Darkness 
prevailed  outside  and  uncertainty  within ;  for  though 
the  captain  knew  the  hour  of  his  sailing,  which  was 


168       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

approximately  at  daylight,  he  knew  not  the  purport 
thereof,  whether  for  convoy  duty,  for  patrol  work 
or  for  something  special  and  more  directly  prom- 
ising. Not  knowing,  he  could  imagine  and  he  could 
hope,  which  he  did,  with  that  wager  with  Captain 
Fuzzy  in  his  mind  and  a  certain  delicious  sense  of 
expectancy  tickling  all  his  nerves. 

He  was  a  square-rigged  figure  of  a  man,  was  Cap- 
tain Bill,  with  square  shoulders  and  square  jaw, 
but  not  a  square  head.  He  did  not  look  so  trim  as, 
for  instance,  a  battleship  or  cruiser  captain.  The 
lower  half  of  him  was  clothed  in  khaki  trousers, 
and  on  his  feet  were  huge  storm  boots.  The  upper 
half  of  him  did  indeed  include  the  regulation  fatigue 
blouse  of  the  officer;  but  where  it  was  buttoned  tight 
at  the  throat  the  points  and  a  bit  of  the  rim  of  a 
khaki  shirt  collar  projected,  lending  a  note  of  pic- 
turesque untidiness,  as  indicating  that  the  captain 
was  dressed  for  work  rather  than  parade,  for  com- 
fort rather  than  for  sweet  appearance's  sake.  This 
same  rough-and-ready  look  was  manifested  by  other 
members  of  his  staff  who  sat  about  him  at  the  ward- 
room table,  all  with  sleep  still  in  their  eyes  — 
excepting  only  the  man  who  had  been  on  watch  — 
and  each  in  his  costume  revealing  some  reckless  but 
practical  departure  from  the  regulations. 

A  messenger  appeared,  saluted  and  mumbled 
something  to  McMaster,  the  ordnance  officer  —  who 
was  an  abrupt  sort  of  personality  known  to  the  crew 
as  Shotgun  —  something  about  a  torpedo  director 
having  been  put  on  upside  down. 

"  Well,  blankety-blan-blank !  "  exclaimed  Shot- 
gun, his  rasping  voice  of  anger  breaking  the  silence 
rudely,  and  taking  little  account,  it  would  seem,  of 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  169 

the  respect  due  the  man  who  captained  the  destroyer 
and  headed  the  table. 

But  the  captain  was  quite  unruffled.  He  joined 
in  the  smile  that  went  round  the  table  over  the  petu- 
lance of  McMaster,  who,  scowling,  left  his  coffee  and 
toast  to  go  aft  and  let  his  voice  be  heard,  bellowing 
and  barking  amid  a  lot  of  scurrying  seamen  who 
were  busy  with  the  lashing  and  unlashing,  the  secur- 
ing and  unsecuring,  the  thousand  and  one  things  that 
human  hands  are  required  to  do  about  the  deck 
fixtures  and  fighting  equipment  of  a  ship  of  war 
when  she  makes  ready  for  the  sea. 

With  McMaster's  voice  still  echoing  another  mes- 
senger entered  and  handed  a  white  slip  of  paper 
to  the  captain.     It  read : 

From  To 

U.  S.  S.  Judson 

Proceed  QXY.    On  reaching  1 16  report.    Urgent. 

QXY  was  a  definite  area  in  the  sea  outside;  116 
was  a  very  definite  spot  in  that  area.  Urgent  meant 
that  the  Judson  was  not  to  pause  to  gather  any 
daisies  on  the  way  to  116,  but  get  there. 

Captain  Bradshaw  read  the  message  without  com- 
ment and  passed  it  to  Kirk,  executive  and  navigator. 
While  he  scanned  it  Eddy,  the  chief  engineer,  en- 
tered, the  only  man  on  the  ship  who  had  been  too 
busy  with  preparations  to  get  under  way,  to  sit 
down  and  receive  fortification  for  his  duties  at  the 
hand  of  the  Filipino  mess  boy. 

"  Permission  to  turn  the  engines  over?  "  the  chief 
inquired. 

"  Yes,"  nodded  the  captain. 

The  chief  engineer  went  out.     One  by  one  the 


170        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

other  officers  rose  and  slipped  away,  each  to  his 
duties,  while  McMaster  came  back  to  his  unfinished 
plate. 

The  entry  of  the  ordnance  officer  was  followed  by 
another  messenger  and  another  message,  indicating 
that  the  intelligence  station  upon  the  hill,  where 
dwelt  the  man  with  the  wide  gold  band  upon  his  arm 
and  the  far-reaching  brain  that  controlled  all  this 
splendid  organization,  was  fairly  busy  this  morning. 
The  message  said : 

From  To 

U.  S.  S.  Judson 

On  reaching  116  QXY  establish  communication 
withSRNV.     Urgent. 

SRNV  was  Captain  Fuzzy's  ship,  the  McDonald. 

"  Hell's  bells !  "  ejaculated  Captain  Bill.  "  They 
sent  her  out  ahead  of  us.  Did  Fuzzy  know  some- 
thing, I  wonder,  when  he  bet  me  that  five  pounds  ?  " 

It  was  perhaps  ten  minutes  after  this,  and  the 
captain  with  his  second  cigarette  in  his  lips  was  in 
the  chart  room,  where  Kirk  was  straddling  a  pair 
of  compasses  across  a  chart  to  the  QXY  area  and 
locating  therein  the  exact  spot  116,  that  a  third 
message  was  brought  in : 

SNRV  asking  what  time  you  can  be  at  116. 
Urgent. 

"  That's  three  times  now  they've  snapped  that 
word  '  urgent '  at  us,"  remarked  the  captain. 
"  Sounds  like  something  doing  out  there." 

"  Yes,"  said  Kirk,  turning  from  his  chart  to  a 
hopeful  contemplation  of  the  message,  while  the  cap- 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  171 

tain  stepping  outside  pattered  lightly  upward  to  the 
bridge. 

The  bridge  of  an  American  destroyer  to-day  has 
been  hooded  and  closed  in  with  a  sheet-steel  struc- 
ture to  give  weather  protection  to  the  instruments 
and  occupants  thereof,  with  the  result  that  it  is  less 
like  a  bridge  and  more  like  an  elevated  oblong  coop, 
with  an  octagonal  side  to  the  front  and  a  semi- 
circular slot  at  the  eaves  through  which  observation 
is  obtained. 

The  bridge  was  now  thickly  populated.  A  quar- 
termaster was  at  the  wheel,  a  yeoman  was  at  the 
engine-room  annunciator,  a  bunting  tosser  was  at 
the  signal  locker,  and  three  or  four  sailors  with 
binoculars  or  telescopes  were  ready  for  lookout 
duty,  while  a  lieutenant  and  a  surplus  ensign  or  two 
were  also  at  hand,  binocular-armed  but  ready  for 
any  service  that  might  be  required  of  them.  The 
captain,  hands  in  pockets,  cap  slightly  to  starboard, 
cigarette  holder  in  mouth,  the  corners  of  that  khaki 
shirt  collar  projecting  grotesquely,  walked  to  and 
fro  with  an  eye  over  the  f  o'castle  head  to  where  the 
anchor  chain  was  coming  in  from  the  buoy. 

"All  clear,  sir,"  called  the  voice  of  the  boson's  mate. 

The  captain's  own  hand  pulled  the  whistle  cord, 
and  the  ship  stirred  and  shook  herself  as  side  lines 
were  cast  off.  The  skipper  now  stood  alert,  watch- 
ing keenly  the  first  slow  drift  of  his  boat,  calculating 
the  force  of  the  tide  and  holding  a  quiet  and  entirely 
one-sided  conversation  with  the  yeoman  whose 
hands  were  on  the  annunciator. 

"  Full  speed  astern  —  starboard  full  ahead  — 
starboard  stop  —  port  one-third  ahead  —  port  stop 
—  starboard  two-thirds  astern." 


172       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

So  jockeying  and  dancing  the  Judson  wormed  out 
of  her  stall,  waltzed  clear  of  her  stable  mates,  nosed 
round  the  mother  ship,  and  headed  for  the  line  of 
buoys  that  marked  a  circuitous  passage  to  the  open 
sea. 

The  harbor  entrance  was  gained  and  left  behind ; 
breakfast  came  and  was  devoured,  the  captain  taking 
his  in  the  chart  room ;  messages  were  sent  and  mes- 
sages were  received;  SRNV  reported  her  hands  full 
and  sliced  off  a  distinct  patch  of  the  sea  for  the 
Judson.  It  was  in  this  patch  of  sea  as  the  radio 
presently  reported  that  the  exciting  thing  had  hap- 
pened, and  the  captain's  eye  glinted  eagerly  as  he 
read  the  word,  after  which  he  gave  certain  neces- 
sary instructions  to  the  engine  room  and  to  the 
wheel. 

Eight  o'clock  came,  bringing  with  it  Bilge's  relief, 
so  that  the  machinist's  mate  clambered  up  the  iron 
ladder  from  the  engine  room  and  sat  upon  the  hatch 
to  look  about  and  get  a  bite  of  the  outside  air. 
Bilge  was  clad  in  dungarees  and  an  undershirt, 
armless  and  exceeding  thin.  His  freckles  were  am- 
bushed beneath  a  coat  of  grease  and  grime,  while 
even  the  pristine  redness  of  his  luxuriant  hair  ap- 
peared to  have  been  somewhat  subdued  by  contacts 
below  stairs  as  if  he  had  used  it  for  a  mop. 

They  were  in  the  midst  of  waters.  No  land  was 
in  sight.  The  sea  was  choppy  gray,  gray  as  the 
wing  of  a  gull,  and  it  stretched  about  them  inter- 
minably. Through  it  without  a  jar  or  a  bound,  with 
scarcely  a  quiver,  the  Judson  slipped  like  a  long 
mottled  green  mackerel,  making  thirty  knots,  which 
for  the  Judson  was  emergency  speed. 

The  machinist's  mate  looked  up  inquiringly  at  the 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  173 

bridge  with  an  air  of  importance  and  responsibility. 
It  was  he  who  had  lifted  her  along  turn  by  turn  to 
this  thirty  knots.  Did  they  know  it?  Did  they 
appreciate  it  up  there? 

Now  to  be  rigidly  truthful,  of  course  this  was 
merely  Bilge's  point  of  view.  It  really  wasn't  he 
who  had  done  this.  It  was  some  boys  in  a  red-hot 
boiler  room,  entered  through  doubled  seal-tight 
doors  which  maintained  the  air  at  high  pressure, 
who  kept  the  flames  going,  not  with  the  labor 
of  shoveled  coal  but  by  the  skillful  manipulation 
of  two  sets  of  valves,  one  of  which  dribbled  crude 
oil  and  the  other  of  which  admitted  sprays  of 
compressed  air  that  vaporized  the  oil  and  carried  it 
in  the  form  of  a  cloud  of  fuel  to  the  fire  boxes. 
But  besides  the  fire  boys  there  were  the  water  boys 
who  nursed  the  big  condenser,  and  there  were  the 
oilers  and  the  machinists,  and  all  the  rest  of  the 
score  of  men  on  watch  at  one  post  or  another 
down  there  in  the  intestines  of  the  ship,  each  of 
whom  had  done  his  part  in  the  manufacture  of  all 
this  power. 

But  it  was  Bilge  who  had  stood  at  the  throttle 
and  given  the  steam  to  the  turbines ;  Bilge  who  had 
stood  at  the  speaking  tube  and  answered  the  ques- 
tions of  the  bridge  and  told  it  what  the  engines  were 
doing;  so  now,  with  the  feel  of  a  commander  in  his 
heart,  he  had  turned  the  throttle  over  to  his  suc- 
cessor, knowing  that  under  his  coaxing  hand  the 
propellers  were  getting  every  turn  that  was  in  the 
power,  and  the  total  of  those  turns  figured  seven 
revolutions  under  thirty  knots;  so  Bilge  called  it 
thirty  knots  and  done,  and  had  come  creeping  up  the 
ladder  to  look  about  him  and  watch  the  gray  seas 


174       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

slipping  by  as  if  the  Judson  were  standing  still  and 
all  the  whole  wide  ocean  racing  to  get  past  it. 

As  Bilge  took  his  seat  on  the  sharp  edge  of  the 
engine-room  hatch  his  friend  the  boson's  mate  saun- 
tered over.  Ma  had  just  been  watching  the  car- 
penter's mate  attaching  a  set  of  nice  new  brass 
figures  to  the  prow  of  the  motor  dory.  This  number 
was,  we  will  say,  198,  and  that,  we  will  say,  was 
the  identification  number  of  the  Judson,  with  which 
brand  her  small  service  boats  were  also  labeled.  Yet 
while  these  new  and  more  highly  ornamental  num- 
bers had  been  going  on  the  prow  of  the  dory  it  was 
nevertheless  a  matter  of  fact  that  the  carpenter's 
mate  as  he  drilled  his  holes  in  the  wood  was  not 
thinking  of  what  he  was  doing.  When  he  drove 
home  the  screws  and  countersunk  them  neatly  just 
to  the  level  of  the  surface  of  the  plate  he  was  doing 
it  mechanically. 

Ma,  the  boson's  mate,  who  watched  him  do  the 
job,  watched  mechanically,  and  as  much  as  anything 
else  just  to  rest  his  eyes  from  continually  staring 
off  there  into  the  greasy  haze  that  lay  ahead  of  them, 
and  into  which  the  Judson  was  rushing  with  every 
turn  of  her  screws.  It  was  on  the  adventure  just 
ahead  that  every  mind  in  the  ship  was  set.  There 
was  nothing  posted  on  the  bulletin  board  but  every- 
body knew.  The  radio  room  was  aft.  In  it  an 
ensign  and  three  enlisted  men  hovered  over  the 
instruments.  From  it  messengers  came  and  went. 
Who  told  ?  Nobody  —  exactly.  Who  whispered  or 
leaked  ?  Nobody  —  exactly.  Yet  from  end  to  end 
the  ship  knew.    It  was  its  business  to  know. 

It  had  not  been  necessary  to  waken  the  men  of  the 
eight-to-twelve    watch.     They    were    roused    and 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  175 

ready,  waiting  to  take  their  stations.  Nor  did  the 
men  they  relieved  bolt  a  hasty  breakfast  and  fling 
into  their  bunks  like  exhausted  sodden  things. 

Instead  they  moved  out  upon  the  fo'castle  or 
found  places  to  sit  on  hatches  or  places  to  lean 
against  guns,  torpedo  tubes,  and  plastered  their  eyes 
ahead,  with  occasional  inquiring  looks  upward  to  the 
bridge. 

There  Captain  Bill  was  in  high  spirits.  His 
nerves  were  strung  like  a  bow.  He  had  waited  long 
for  his  chance.  To-day  —  in  an  hour  —  in  fifteen 
minutes  —  in  that  undefined  patch  of  gray  haze 
ahead  his  chance  was  waiting  for  him. 

To  Bilge,  too,  a  mere  cog  in  this  thrillingly 
efficient  machine,  it  seemed  that  his  chance  was 
coming.  It  was  for  this  he  had  enlisted,  fdr  this 
he  had  eaten  the  bread  of  humble  obedience  to 
another  man's  orders,  for  this  he  had  worked  slav- 
ishly days  on  end,  for  this  he  had  fought  the 
storms  and  the  ennui  and  the  heartburnings  of  home- 
sickness; for  this  he  had  taken  the  back  talk  of 
chief  petty  officers,  had  penned  himself  up  in  the 
narrow  bowels  of  a  destroyer  and  endured  all  that 
the  enlisted  man  feels  he  has  to  endure  —  that  his 
country  might  win,  that  humanity  might  win,  and 
the  savage  Hun  be  beaten. 

The  deck  rose  and  fell  gently  to  the  long  rhythm 
of  the  Judson's  forward  leap.  Bilge  bent  his  knees 
slightly,  and  felt  that  the  wings  of  his  spirit  rose 
and  fell,  majestic  and  strong.  It  was  a  great  mo- 
ment —  a  great  thrill  that  was  coming. 

"  Be  on  top  of  her  soon  now,  eh  ?  "  he  said  to  Ma. 

"  Yeh !  I  reckon  so,"  conceded  Ma,  expectant  but 
unexcited.     "  Yeh !     I  reckon  we  will," 


176       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

But  there  was  no  badinage,  no  idle  speech.  Men 
held  their  tongues  and  waited.  And  now  they  were 
there ! 

Wreckage  floated  past  —  an  overturned  boat,  a 
chicken  coop,  the  shattered  half  of  a  gangplank,  bar- 
rels, rafts,  boxes,  boards,  and  an  indescribable 
jumble  of  the  things  a  ship  contains  which  float  off 
when  she  slips  beneath  the  waves.  The  sea  was 
filled  with  wreckage.  This  was  the  very  water  and 
these  were  the  silent  witnesses  when,  a  scant  three 
hours  before,  while  the  Judson's  wardroom  was  at 
its  coffee,  men  had  fought  for  life  amid  the  broken 
members  of  their  torpedoed  boat.  Even  now  it 
seemed  that  their  dumb  lips  pleaded  for  punishment 
for  their  treacherous  and  cruel  enemy.  And  already, 
too,  the  avengers  were  gathering. 

An  airplane  circled  overhead,  with  the  bold  in- 
signia of  Britain  upon  her  wide  wings.  A  dirigible 
balloon  floated  in  the  lower  atmosphere,  peering 
deep  for  any  sign  of  that  dark  moving  shadow  which 
would  hint  the  presence  of  the  submarine.  Bilge 
and  Ma  were  gaping  at  the  sights  about  them  when 
general  quarters  was  sounded  with  one  long  dis- 
cordant shriek  of  the  whistle. 

Instantly  there  was  a  vast  hurry  and  scuttle  from 
end  to  end  of  the  boat.  Men  went  flying  to  their 
stations.  McMaster  was  running  for  the  after 
bridge  and  more  immediate  control  of  his  depth 
charges.  Ensign  Trigg  charged  along  the  deck, 
fighting  like  a  football  player  for  his  way  through 
jostling  groups  of  men  who  were  crowding  about 
guns  and  torpedo  tubes.  Gunners  were  swiftly 
spinning  controlling  wheels  as  their  weapons  were 
ranged  or  pointed,  and  the  torpedo  men  leaped  to 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  177 

their  places  in  the  saddle  and  with  tubes  swung  out 
sat  like  jockeys  awaiting  the  fall  of  the  starter's 
flag. 

Ma's  battle  station  was  the  starboard  waist  gun. 

"What's  it?"  demanded  Bilge  of  the  charging 
ensign.  In  such  moments  of  excitement  distinc- 
tions of  rank  are  sometimes  forgotten,  even  by 
ensigns,  and  the  single-striper  was  more  human 
than  he  was  official  anyway. 

"  Submarine  broaching  dead  ahead !"  he  called 
back. 

"G-r-r-r-r!" 

There  rose  from  all  the  assembled  crews  a  gut- 
tural roar  of  thirst  for  vengeance,  mixed  with  exul- 
tation that  at  last  the  time  had  come  to  gratify  it. 
Bilge,  whose  battle  station  when  not  on  watch  was 
loose  proximity  to  the  engine-room  companion, 
leaned  out  on  a  boat  davit  and  set  his  eyes  ahead. 
Once  in  a  while  he  discerned  a  black  speck  rising  and 
falling  on  the  waves. 

"  Well,  why  don't  they  shoot  ?  "  he  demanded 
impatiently. 

The  bow  gun  and  the  starboard  waist  gun  were 
already  trained  upon  it.  Lieutenant  Cherry  from 
the  crow's  nest  kept  calling  down  the  range. 

"  Set  sir !  Set !  "  reported  Dickey  Dorgan  through 
his  speaking  tube,  and  was  praying  for  the  order 
to  fire. 

But  no  order  came,  and  presently  word  was  passed 
down  from  the  bridge :     "  It's  a  lifeboat." 

A  groan  went  up  from  gun  and  torpedo  crews, 
seasoned  with  curses  of  baffled  rage;  and  then  curi- 
ously all  studied  the  boat  which  the  Judson  was 
rapidly  overhauling.     As  it  careened  on  the  slope 


178       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

of  a  wave  when  they  passed,  something  huddled  in 
the  bottom  —  awash,  for  both  ends  of  the  craft 
were  splintered  as  if  by  shell  fire.  The  Judson 
turned  and  came  back  to  windward,  slowing  as  she 
did  so  for  the  launching  of  a  boat. 

"  Man  the  whale  and  lower  away !  "  ordered  the 
captain. 

This  was  the  boson's  mate's  job  naturally,  and 
Ma  with  six  men  at  the  oars  went  down  the  falls, 
standing  as  proudly  in  the  stern  as  ever  an  admiral 
on  quarter-deck.  As  the  boat  cast  off  the  Judson 
began  immediately  to  take  on  speed,  which  was  pru- 
dent, for  a  stopped  or  slow-moving  destroyer  makes 
an  inviting  target >f or  a  torpedo;  and  again  wreck- 
age began  to  flow  past,  each  piece  of  it  curiously 
scanned  by  everybody  on  the  ship.  Prominent  in 
this  stream  just  now  was  a  huge  hatch  cover,  and 
upon  it  lay  a  coil  of  rope  as  it  had  evidently  lain 
before  the  hatch  cover  floated  free.  Upon  this  the 
keen  eyes  of  Bilge  discovered  something  white,  a 
tiny  shivering  mass  that  hugged  cautiously  the  rope 
coil  in  the  center  of  the  floating  rectangle. 

"  A  dog !  "  somebody  shouted. 

"  A  pup !  "  amended  a  voice  from  the  bridge;  and 
pup  it  was,  a  tiny  wire-haired  fox  terrier,  bewildered, 
cold,  water-soaked  and  feeling  no  doubt  very  much 
abused  to  be  left  thus  lonely  and  abandoned  in  the 
midst  of  this  waste  of  waters.  He  watched  so  in- 
tently and  apprehensively  the  encroachment  of  the 
waves  as  from  time  to  time  they  threatened  his 
position  in  the  center  that  the  weirdly  decorated  body 
of  the  Judson  was  almost  over  him  before  he  noticed 
its  presence,  with  a  line  of  human  beings  along  its 
side  which  his  brief  life  had  taught  him  to  recognize 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  179 

as  kin,  gazing  at  him  sympathetically  from  deck  and 
bridge. 

Up  to  this  moment  the  pup  had  cowered  timidly, 
but  with  the  knowledge  that  he  was  under  observa- 
tion an  instant  consciousness  of  the  blood  of  a  royal 
fighting  line  within  him  seemed  to  assert  itself.  He 
stood  stiffly  on  his  small  legs,  his  aristocratic  stub 
of  a  tail  was  lifted,  and  his  ears,  black  like  spots  of 
camouflage  against  his  white  body,  went  up,  and  he 
posed  bravely  as  though  none  should  see  him  exhibit 
other  than  a  stout  defiance  to  his  fate.  He  barked 
a  greeting  at  them  excitedly  in  a  hoarse  little  voice, 
which  told  the  story  of  a  cold  and  chilling  vigil  and 
the  despair  which  had  all  but  settled  in  his  heart. 

While  the  ship  passed  he  advanced  bravely  to  the 
edge  of  his  raft  and  lifted  up  his  face  and  then  his 
voice  in  eager  yapping  little  cries,  as  of  cordial  hail 
and  stout  farewell  to  fellow  voyagers  on  a  vast  and 
watery  sea.  There  was  no  whimper  of  fear  in  the 
voice,  but  there  was  infinite  appeal  in  it  —  the  appeal 
of  high  stout  courage,  the  cry  of  comrade  to  comrade 
across  the  waters,  and  the  modest  expression  of  a 
yearning  not  to  be  abandoned  if  rescue  were  per- 
fectly convenient. 

"  Permission  to  get  the  pup,  sir?"  said  a  husky 
voice;  and  the  captain,  watching  from  the  bridge, 
looked  round  to  see  that  Bilge  in  his  dungarees  had 
come  rushing  up  the  ladder. 

Now  the  captain  of  a  destroyer  is  inevitably  a 
young  man.  No  other  kind  will  do  —  a  young  man 
with  tireless  muscles,  with  eager  enthusiasms,  with 
ready  sympathies,  who  acts  like  a  flash  and  does  his 
repenting,  if  repenting  is  necessary,  well  and  after 
the  act.     Neither,  upon  a  destroyer,  is  there  that 


180       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

insistence  upon  the  refinements  of  formality  which 
obtains  in  larger  battle  craft.  There  is  discipline, 
the  absolute  mastery  of  the  man  on  the  bridge,  and 
the  swift  and  instinctive  obedience  of  every  man 
below  him;  but  what  might  be  called  the  frills  and 
fringes  of  the  disciplinary  establishment  are  some- 
times lacking. 

In  coming  unbidden  to  the  bridge  upon  a  purely 
personal  quest  Bilge  Kennedy,  machinist's  mate,  had 
transgressed,  but  in  revealing  how  ready  and  how 
sincere  was  the  sympathy  that  dwelt  within  him  for 
the  small  and  dumb  and  helpless  he  had  justified  his 
coming. 

"  Yes,"  said  Captain  Bill,  short  and  gruff,  to  mask 
the  feeling  of  softness  that  was  in  his  heart. 

It  had  not  occurred  to  him  just  how  Bilge  was 
meaning  to  get  the  pup.  He  did  not  particularly 
consider.  That  a  ship  at  sea  in  the  midst  of  wreck- 
age and  perhaps  human  flotsam  should  stop  to  rescue 
a  puny  little  dog,  thereby  exposing  to  possible  sub- 
marine attack  a  healthy  unit  in  Uncle  Sam's  de- 
stroyer flotilla,  was  quite  absurd.  It  was  contrary 
to  the  rules  of  war  and  the  tenets  of  strategy  made 
and  provided.  The  captain  instantly  swept  his  eye 
away  to  the  larger  concerns  of  the  moment  —  to  the 
fields  of  possible  enemy  action,  to  the  whaleboat 
making  a  rhythmic-oared  progress  toward  the 
water-logged  craft,  and  then  off  to  where  the  dirig- 
ible swung  in  the  air  and  made  signals  from  time 
to  time,  which  the  bunting  tosser  was  reading  and 
calling  off  as  he  got  them. 

Bilge,  however,  running  aft  along  the  deck,  was 
somehow  shedding  his  shoes  as  he  ran,  and  a  cheer 
broke  from  the  men  on  the  after  bridge  and  about 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  181 

the  depth-charge  racks  when  he  went  overboard 
with  a  splash  and  began  to  swim  with  long  expert 
strokes  toward  the  hatch  cover. 

The  pup  seemed  to  understand  the  maneuver  at 
once.  He  again  moved  close  to  the  edge  of  his 
small  craft,  and  his  eyes  watched  intently  that  dark 
spot  upon  the  water  where  Bilge  made  progress 
toward  him.  Sometimes  the  long  swells  let  the 
swimming  machinist's  mate  down  into  a  cradle 
where  he  was  out  of  sight,  and  sometimes  they  lifted 
him  high  on  a  crest  where  the  little  dog  caught  sight 
of  him  again  and  yapped  an  eager  cry  of  encourage- 
ment and  welcome.  The  men  on  the  deck  of  the 
Judson  shouted  joyously  as  they  saw  Bilge  make 
the  hatch  cover  and  the  little  dog  caper  excitedly 
about  his  arms  and  head. 

"  I  would  disrate  him  for  that !  "  scowled  the  exec. 

"  Tut,  tut !  "  chided  the  captain  with  a  sort  of 
gulp  in  his  throat.  "  Gad !  It's  a  wonderful  spirit, 
that ;  that  will  jump  overboard  in  the  middle  of  the 
Irish  Sea  for  a  wet  forlorn  little  pup.  What  chance 
has  Germany  got  against  men  like  that?  None  at 
all,  I  tell  you!" 

But  just  then  the  men  in  the  dirigible  balloon 
seemed  to  get  very  excited  about  something.  The 
eye  of  their  blinker  system  began  to  wink  very  rap- 
idly. The  signal  man  in  the  Judson  who  read  its 
message  became  excited  also  as  he  translated  to  the 
captain.     Captain  Bill's  eyes  lighted  freshly. 

"  Here's  where  I  win  that  five  pounds,"  he 
chuckled,  and  then  uttered  some  short  sharp  words 
to  the  men  at  the  annunciator  and  wheel,  so  that 
the  Judson  was  picking  up  speed  like  a  Liberty 
Motor  and  coming  about  for  a  straightaway  dash 


182       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

down  where  the  men  in  the  dirigible  were  having 
their  little  cat  fit. 

The  first  hint  Ma  had  that  he  and  his  boat's  crew 
were  to  be  temporarily  abandoned  in  midchannel 
was  when  he  saw  the  Judson  go  whizzing  round  him 
like  a  long  chameleon-hued  ghost,  during  which 
maneuver  Jimmy  Roser  wigwagged  him  from  the 
port  wing  of  the  bridge :  "  Pick  up  Bilge  on  raft 
three  hundred  yards  to  starboard  and  hold  position. 
Will  return  and  take  you  up." 

"  Bilge  on  raft  —  three  hundred  yards  to  star- 
board," muttered  Ma  in  amazement.  "  The  durn 
poet  must  'a'  fell  overboard." 

"  Bilge  went  overside  to  rescue  pup,"  Jimmy 
added,  of  his  own  motion,  by  way  of  postscript 
information. 

Standing  up  Ma  made  out  the  form  of  a  man 
signaling  to  him  from  the  top  of  a  wave. 

"  The  durn  dog  catcher  can  just  stay  there  a  while 
till  I  get  through  with  my  present  business,"  the 
boson's  mate  decided  and,  while  holding  his  craft 
on  its  way  toward  the  water-logged  boat  but  with 
none  of  his  oarsmen  hurrying  because  of  what  they 
feared  to  find  there,  he  permitted  his  own  eyes  to 
wander  off  in  pursuit  of  the  Judson,  already  half  a 
mile  away  and  kicking  up  a  wake  of  foam  that  to 
the  boat's  crew  was  sufficient  evidence  of  the  impor- 
tance of  the  errand  upon  which  she  was  going. 

"  That  old  sausage  down  there  must  'a'  sighted 
the  sub,"  Ma  remarked  wistfully.  "  Wisht  I  was 
on  board  " ;  and  he  gazed  forlornly  southward  while 
the  Judson  streaked  it  another  mile  into  the  haze. 

"  Listen  to  that  now !  "  ejaculated  Spud  Murphy, 
as  an  echo  rattled  and  rolled  in  the  clouds  above 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  183 

them.  "  They're  shootin' !  There's  another.  Gosh ! 
I  never  did  have  any  luck." 

A  sound  like  a  faint  cough  came  back  across  the 
waves. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  now?"  demanded 
Dyckman.  "  Sub  shooting  back  at  a  destroyer." 

"  Must  be  one  of  them  big  cruisers  with  the  five- 
inch  guns,"  reasoned  Ma.  "  Figures  'at  she  can  out- 
range us,  I  reckon.  Well,  ain't  this  yere  a  yell  of  a 
mix-up?  The  Judson  yonder  shootin'  and  gettin' 
shot;  us  here  puddlin'  along  on  a  fool's  errand  to 
look  over  a  lot  of  dead  men  in  a  boat;  and  old  Bilge, 
the  fightin'est  man  of  us  all,  yonder  on  a  raft  res- 
cuin'  a  fool  dog." 

"  Bilge  would  go  farther  after  a  dog  than  he 
would  a  human  bein'  any  day,"  suggested  Spud. 

"  This  ain't  war.  It's  farce  comedy,"  decided 
Ma  disconsolately. 

"  It's  always  just  like  that,"  volunteered  Bunny 
Mclntyre  eagerly  as  he  eased  up  on  his  oar.  "  It's 
that  way  at  the  Front  in  France,  the  fellers  at  the 
French  base  tell  me.  It's  all  kind  of  crazy.  One 
minute  you're  sweatin'  round  because  you  lost  your 
spoon,  or  you  can't  find  one  of  your  socks,  or  you're 
worrying  because  M  Company  got  an  Athletics' 
pitcher  in  the  new  draft  and  how  in  time  are  you 
going  to  win  that  fifteen  francs  if  they  stick  this 
new  pitcher  in  the  game  to-morrow ;  and  then  all  at 
once  shells  are  dropping  on  you  and  hell's  popping 
everywhere,  and  socks  or  no  socks,  spoon  or  no 
spoon,  pitcher  or  no  pitcher,  you  hop  up  and  go 
over,  fighting  like  the  very  devil  and  wading  up  to 
your  knees  in  blood  maybe.  Then  in  an  hour  it's 
back  to  the  same  old  story;  you're  dead  and  you 


184       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

don't  give  a  damn,  or  you're  off  to  the  hospital 
where  a  man  with  a  pair  of  sugar  tongs  is  picking 
pieces  out  of  you,  or  else  you're  beefing  and  belly- 
aching along  in  the  same  old  trenches  with  the  same 
old  troubles,  howling  like  a  colicky  baby  because  the 
rats  have  et  the  filling  out  of  your  alcohol  stove,  and 
while  you're  drinking  your  coffee  cold  you  can't 
help  but  wonder  if  the  alcohol  made  the  rodents 
drunk  or  not.     That's  the  way  it  always  goes." 

"  Well,  if  you  make  that  oar  of  yourn  go  a  little 
faster  and  your  tongue  go  a  little  less  we'll  git  to 
where  we're  a-travelin'  some  considerable  quicker," 
rebuked  Ma  sternly.  "  You  shore  are  some  little 
philosopher  though,  ain't  you,  Bun  ?  " 

"  The  point  is,"  argued  Bunny,  "  you  can't  never 
figure  what's  going  to  happen  next,  nor  how  it's 
coming  off.  Things  break  out  the  way  you  can't 
never  imagine  'em  at  all.  There's  Bilge  going  after 
the  dog  and  the  Judson  going  after  the  sub,  right 
here  in  the  same  little  back  yard,  you  might  say." 

"  But  with  this  difference,"  piped  Dyckman,  who 
was  in  a  hyperpessimistic  mood  through  not  liking 
to  row :  "  Bilge  got  the  dog.  I  can  see  him  once  in 
a  while  holding  it  up  to  us;  but  the  Judson  hasn't 
got  the  sub." 

"  How  d'you  know  ?  "  Instinctively  six  pairs  of 
eyes  turned  off  southward. 

"  Well,  she's  not  firing  any  more." 

"  She  may  have  got  the  sub." 

"  One  thing's  sure  —  the  sub  didn't  get  the  Jud- 
son. I  can  make  her  out,  all  right.  But  gee !  She 
must  be  four  miles  away,  and  I  suppose  the  sub  was 
five  miles  off  when  she  began  cracking  away." 

"  Steady   now !  "   ordered   Ma   sharply.     "  Back 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  185 

water.  Take  the  boat  hook  there,  Spud,  and  hold 
alongside,  but  keep  her  off,  so  one  of  these  lazy  ones 
don't  roll  us  all  over  on  top  of  her." 

These  remarks  of  the  boson's  mate  were  of  course 
apropos  of  having  arrived  alongside  the  water- 
logged boat  toward  which  they  had  been  pulling. 

"  Gosh !  "  gasped  Spud,  standing  up.  "  They's 
bodies  in  it." 

Exploration  with  the  boat  hook,  however,  re- 
vealed that  this  was  a  mistake.  There  was  a  wash 
of  heterogeneous  things,  but  no  bodies  —  some 
storm  coats,  a  collapsed  suitcase,  torn  asunder  as  if 
by  shell  fire,  a  woman's  jacket,  a  life  preserver,  and 
on  the  end  of  the  boat  hook  a  baby's  knitted  cap. 

"  Gosh !  "  gasped  Spud  again. 

Human  life  had  been  here  but  it  was  gone.  How  ? 
Conjecture  was  easy,  but  unpleasant.  Perhaps, 
shrinking  from  the  shrapnel,  the  occupants  had 
leaped  overboard  to  a  kinder  death  in  the  waves ;  or 
perhaps  — 

"  Shove  off !  "  ordered  Ma.  "It  makes  me  sort  of 
sick.     Le's  go  and  get  Bilge.     How  I  hate  a  Hun !  " 

They  went  and  got  Bilge,  and  they  were  telling 
him  about  the  boat,  with  the  splintered  ends,  with 
the  shattered  suitcase  and  the  woman's  jacket  and 
the  baby's  cap.     Bilge's  blue  eyes  blazed. 

"  Holy  Father  in  heaven,"  he  said,  "  but  I'd  like 
to  get  'em !  " 

This  was  not  profanation.     It  was  prayer. 

"  Look !  "  exclaimed  Spud  excitedly.    "  Look !  " 

Every  eye  followed  the  thrust  of  his  agitated 
finger  to  where,  two  hundred  yards  away,  a  stubby 
periscope  had  broken  the  surface  and  was  turning 
gradually  in  their  direction. 


186       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  The  other  submarine !  "  murmured  Bilge  in  awe- 
struck tones.  "  The  radios  said  there  was  two  of 
them  in  this  area." 

The  thing  was  still  rising  in  the  water,  but  with 
observation  tubes  telescoping  as  the  craft  rose,  in 
order  to  decrease  its  own  visibility  as  much  as 
possible ;  for  it  mounted  until  two  feet  of  the  bridge 
was  above  the  surface.  At  the  same  time  it  was 
straightening  out  its  course,  increasing  speed  and 
bearing  directly  down  upon  the  men  in  the  boat. 

They  stared  at  it  curiously,  helplessly,  wondering 
at  what  moment  a  squad  would  emerge  and  demand 
their  surrender  or  assail  them  with  rifle  fire.  But 
no  sign  of  the  crew  was  apparent.  Yet  the  sub- 
mersible came  straight  on,  faster  and  faster,  that 
wedgelike  prow  at  the  base  of  the  bridge  fashioning 
itself  into  a  relentless  instrument  of  destruction. 

"  It's  going  to  ram  us ! "  the  men  murmured 
weakly,  one  to  another. 

"  Hell's  cahoots !  "  exclaimed  Ma,  excited  for  once 
in  his  life,  as  he  discerned  the  meaning  of  this 
maneuver.  "  Back  water,  there !  Back  water  for 
your  life!  Now  —  now  let  her  come  round!  Lay 
off  on  your  starboard  oars.  Pull  like  hell  to  port ! 
Now  —  now !  " 

The  whaleboat  swung  to  starboard  just  in  time 
to  escape  the  peril  of  that  axlike  prow. 

"Ain't  she  the  helpless  thing  though!"  Ma 
snorted,  breathing  quickly  but  turning  a  sarcastic 
eye  on  Bilge  in  malicious  memory  of  that  argument 
of  the  night  before.  "  Judson's  three  miles  away 
now  if  she's  a  mile.  Dirigible  is  one  mile  away  if 
she's  a  hundred  yards.  Airplane  ?  Where  —  where 
in  thunder  is  that  darned  airplane?  "  Ma  lifted  his 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  187 

chin  and  searched  the  sky.  "  Plumb  out  of  sight. 
That's  the  way  with  these  hundred-mile-an-hour 
machines.  One  minute  she's  here  and  the  next  min- 
ute she's  hoverin'  over  Liverpool." 

"  But,"  argued  Bilge  hopefully,  "  the  next  minute 
she's  back  here  maybe." 

"  Look !  The  beggar  is  turning  and  coming  back 
at  us !  "  stammered  Dyckman. 

"  You're  an  able  navigator,  Ma,"  encouraged 
Bilge.  "  You  dodged  him  once.  I  bet  you  can 
dodge  him  again." 

"  You  fellows  git  up  on  your  toes,"  the  boson's 
mate  demanded  of  his  oarsmen.     "  I  bet  I  kin  too." 

"  Ain't  this  war  comedy,  though,  just  like  I  told 
you?  "  broke  out  the  philosophic  Bunny.  "  Look  at 
us  out  here  playin'  pussy  wants  a  corner  with  a  sub- 
marine, and  balloons  and  airplanes  and  the  Judson 
with  guns  and  torpedoes  and  ash  cans  all  round  us 
but  just  out  of  hailing  distance." 

"  I  look  for  'em  to  turn  a  machine  gun  on  us 
pretty  soon,"  said  Spud,  eying  the  veering  submarine 
apprehensively. 

"  Ain't  it  funny  about  these  damn  Huns?"  ob- 
served Bunny,  still  reflective.  "  They'll  try  to 
smash  the  boat  and  drown  us  all,  but  they  won't  open 
up  and  pick  us  off  with  a  rifle.  They  got  com- 
punctions about  that  apparently." 

"  They  got  compunctions  about  coming  up  high 
enough  to  open  the  hatches  for  fear  the  balloon  will 
sight  them,"  growled  Spud. 

"  Yes,  or  compunctions  about  shootin'  off  rifles 
or  machine  guns,  for  fear  the  balloon'll  hear  it  and 
wigwag  the  Judson  and  she'll  turn  and  drop  a  shell 
on  'em." 


188        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  Here  she  comes  back  again!  " 

Once  more  the  pronglike  prow  came  stabbing 
down  upon  them,  and  again  Ma  by  clever  seamanship 
maneuvered  his  boat  to  one  side,  though  this  time 
she  was  nearly  capsized  by  the  wake.  For  a  mo- 
ment there  was  no  conversation  in  the  whaleboat. 
Every  face  was  white,  mouths  were  open,  men 
panted  for  breath  and  looked  into  each  other's  eyes 
curiously.  Ma's  spirit,  however,  was  still  stout. 
After  a  moment  he  could  even  indulge  another  shaft 
of  sarcasm. 

"Ain't  they  the  helpless  little  things  though?" 
he  demanded.  "  What  are  you  so  still  for,  Bilge  ? 
What  you  thinking  about  ?    Ain't  scared,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Plumb  to  hell  and  gone,"  admitted  Bilge,  his 
teeth  chattering.  "  Ma,  I  haven't  never  been  so 
scared  in  all  my  life  before.  Not  even  in  a  dream, 
I  haven't." 

"  Well,  you  shore  are  honest,  for  once  in  yore 
misspent  life,"  responded  Ma.  "  I  admire  you  for 
it,  Bilge.  You  give  me  courage  to  speak  the  truth 
too.     I  am  just  so  dog-goned  scairt  that  —  " 

"  I  got  an  idea,  though,"  blurted  Bilge  suddenly. 
"  Quick !  Quick !  It's  a  pippin  too !  Pull  over  there 
to  that  hatch  cover  with  the  coil  of  rope  on  it." 

"Clean  nutty,  ain't  you?"  reproved  Ma  with- 
eringly. 

"  I  suppose  yore  idea  is  to  tie  on  to  the  sub's 
propeller  and  then  it  can't  ram  us  because  it  keeps 
pullin'  us  out  of  its  own  reach  all  the  time.  Sort 
of  a  game  of  pussy  chasin'  its  tail,  huh  ?  " 

"Get  over  there,  fellows,  quick,  will  you?" 
pleaded  Bilge  before  replying,  and  as  if  any  diver- 
sion, no  matter  how  sterile  and  unpromising,  were 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  189 

preferable  to  the  dread  suspense  of  waiting  to  be 
rammed  or  fired  upon  by  the  submarine,  the  men 
bent  to  their  oars  while  Ma  swung  the  tiller. 

"  That's  just  all  the  strategical  imagination  you've 
got  now,"  chided  Bilge.  "  You're  figuring  to  keep 
the  submarine  from  getting  us.  I  figure  to  get  the 
submarine." 

Ma  said  nothing  at  all  to  this,  but  contrived  to 
look  extremely  bored  and  disconsolate. 

"  You  haven't  got  the  proper  faith  in  brains  and 
initiative,  Ma,"  complained  Bilge. 

"  You  haven't  got  no  proper  brains  at  all,"  peeved 
Ma. 

"  The  Judson's  coming  this  way  fast,"  reported 
Bunny,  taking  a  squint  over  his  shoulder.  "  The 
balloon  must  have  seen  the  sub." 

"  This  U-pirate's  got  about  one  more  chance  at 
us,"  calculated  Bilge,  "  and  if  he  misses  that  he's 
done.     He's  got  to  get  down.     Then  it's  our  turn." 

"  Then  he'll  open  up  the  hatch  and  turn  loose  on 
us  with  the  rifles,"  declared  Ma  dejectedly. 

"  Just  about,"  admitted  Bilge.  "  But  we  can  all 
pile  over  the  off  side  and  let  him  whang  away.  He'll 
have  to  submerge  before  he  can  pick  off  a  single 
one  of  us.  I'm  going  to  put  a  ball  and  chain  on 
him." 

"  What's  your  scheme?"  inquired  Ma,  with  a 
sudden  change  from  mocking  pessimism  to  respect- 
ful interest  as  they  again  swung  alongside  the  hatch 
cover. 

"  Watch  me !  "  crowed  Bilge.    "  Just  watch  me !  " 

Swiftly  he  was  tying  the  end  of  that  coil  of  line 
about  the  middle  of  an  oar. 

"  Here !  "  he  said,  thrusting  the  oar  into  Ma's 


190       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

hand.  "  Now  when  the  sub  comes  at  you  next  time 
don't  back  off  so  sharp.  Kind  of  swing  alongside 
and  pitch  this  oar  through  under  his  jump  wire. 
It'll  turn  crossways  and  the  angle  of  the  wire  and  the 
drive  of  the  boat  will  pull  it  under  till  it  comes  to 
where  the  jump  wire  is  made  fast  to  the  deck. 
There  it'll  jam  and  hold  like  an  anchor  just  as  long 
as  the  sub  keeps  pulling  on  it." 

"  But  —  "  Ma  began  to  object. 

"  But  nothing.  I'm  going  over  the  side  now  and 
make  the  other  end  of  that  coil  fast  to  the  ring  in 
the  hatch  cover.  There's  three  hundred  feet  of 
line  in  that  coil  if  there's  an  inch.  The  sub  can't 
go  down  more  than  three  hundred  feet,  so  we've  got 
a  permanent  marker  on  him.  Here!  Out  of  the 
way,  pup !  " 

In  another  second  Bilge  was  on  the  hatch  cover, 
searching  for  the  inner  end  of  the  coil  and  tying  it 
in  the  ring. 

"  Pull  away  now,"  he  ordered.  "  I've  got  to 
keep  the  line  running  free." 

"  Well,  I'll  be  blowed  plumb  up  to  heaven  with  a 
depth  charge,"  exclaimed  Ma,  "if  that  there  nut 
hain't  got  hold  of  a  perfectly  reasonable  idea.  All 
we  got  to  do  now  is  to  put  it  over.  Up  on  your 
toes  again,  you-all.  Remember,  we  got  to  keep  her 
broadside  on  till  the  bridge  gits  apast  us,  so's  I  can 
tuck  the  oar  under  the  jump  rope.  It  don't  make 
no  difference  if  we  do  upset  after  that,  because  if 
they  miss  they'll  be  shootin'  at  us  in  ten  seconds 
anyhow,  and  we  got  to  take  to  the  water.  Every- 
body kick  their  shoes  off  and  stand  for  a  duckin', 
and  not  a  man  of  you  get  hisself  drowned  or  I'll  — 
I'll  —  durned  if  I  know  what  they  do  to  a  gob  for 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  191 

gettin'  hisself  drowned,  but  I'll  put  you  on  report 
for  it,  anyhow." 

The  cold  impersonal  eye  of  the  periscope  bore 
down,  staring  at  them  mockingly. 

"  Reckon  they're  on  to  our  scheme  ?  "  inquired 
Bunny. 

"On?  I  reckon  not.  They  ain't  smart  enough. 
Just  naturally  ain't." 

A  humming  sound  came  down  from  above. 

"  Airplane's  back,"  affirmed  Spud,  sparing  one 
glance  for  the  upper  regions. 

"  They'll  see  him  and  get  under  quick's  they  can," 
opined  Ma.  "  But  they'll  take  a  shot  at  us  before 
they  duck.  The  sky  pilot  can't  drop  a  bomb  for 
fear  of  hittin'  we-all." 

The  conning  tower  split  viciously  through  the 
waves  with  a  loud  ripping  sound.  The  whaleboat 
swung,  careened,  righted,  grated  on  an  edge  of 
passing  steel  and  with  a  sharp  pop  crumpled  up  like 
paper  and  rolled  right  through  under  the  jump  wire, 
so  that  all  Ma  had  to  do  was  to  let  go  of  his  oar  to 
make  sure  of  its  performing  its  intended  function. 
For  a  moment  there  was  wild  scrambling  in  the 
water,  and  the  voice  of  Bilge  rang  out  from  his 
observation  post  on  the  hatch  cover. 

"  My  pup !  Save  my  pup !  "  he  was  shouting;  and 
he  continued  to  shout  thus  till  suddenly  the  hatch 
cover  leaped  from  under  him  like  a  thing  alive,  with 
Bilge  describing  strange  acrobatic  stunts  as  he 
screamed  frantically :  "  Dive !  Dive  or  it'll  hit 
you." 

There  was  an  instant  scattering  of  the  heads  and 
hands  that  a  moment  before  had  been  clinging  to 
the  wreckage  of  the  overturned  boat. 


192       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  The  dog!  Where's  the  dog?"  clamored  Bilge, 
swimming  with  long  expert  strokes. 

"I  got  him,"  yelled  Spud.  "The  durn  little 
hedgehog!  He's  just  about  scratching  the  hide 
off  me." 

"  Hold  on  to  him!  "  bawled  Bilge.  "  Don't  let 
him  get  carried  away.  He's  so  dog-goned  little  we 
couldn't  never  see  him  again." 

As  this  conversation  was  shouted  from  wave  crest 
to  wave  crest  the  eight  huskies  in  the  water  were 
swimming  from  one  piece  of  wreckage  to  another, 
strategically  abandoning  smaller  pieces  for  larger 
ones,  till  presently  thev  were  all  lined  up  with  hand 
or  arm  holds  on  a  spar. 

The  Judson,  meantime,  having  exchanged  shots 
with  a  submarine  which  had  dived,  and  thereafter 
sprinkled  the  waters  round  with  depth  charges,  but 
with  no  obvious  result,  came  charging  back  to  pick 
up  her  boat  before  going  in  further  pursuit,  when  a 
cry  from  the  crow's-nest  tube  created  renewed  ex- 
citement on  the  bridge  and  caused  an  instant  leveling 
and  concentration  of  glasses  on  a  spot  dead  ahead 
in  the  sea. 

"Whale!"  declared  one. 

"  Torpedo !  "  suspected  another. 

"  Blackfish !  "  insisted  a  third. 

"Wake  of  some  kind,  all  right!"  decided  Cap- 
tain Bill,  who  after  many  disappointments  forced 
himself  to  be  conservative. 

All  at  once  the  wake  disappeared.  Where  a  few 
minutes  before  there  had  been  leaps,  splashes  and 
an  odd  commotion  in  the  water  there  was  now 
nothing  at  all.  While  the  Judson  drove  steadily 
forward  the  bridge  contemplated  the  phenomenon 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  193 

in  wonder;  but  the  bridge  of  a  destroyer  becomes 
blase. 

It  has  experienced  so  many  alarms  and  eager 
anticipations  in  these  eighteen  months;  it  has  pur- 
sued so  many  bobbing  tin  cans  or  nodding  cham- 
pagne bottles  that  it  thought  were  periscopes ;  it  has 
glued  its  eyes  so  many  times  to  drifting  spars  or 
bits  of  wreckage  that  it  took  for  broaching  subma- 
rines; it  has  piped  its  crew  to  general  quarters  so 
frequently  to  face  what  looked  like  an  enemy  and 
turned  out  to  be  some  inert  bit  of  flotsam  —  that  it 
is  prepared  for  anticlimaxes.  It  has  even  stood  with 
trembling  knees  and  a  feeling  of  helplessness  when 
a  broaching  torpedo  came  sizzling  and  frothing  to- 
ward it,  only  to  have  the  engine  of  death  dive  under 
the  bow  and  pursue  its  onward  care- free  way  like 
a  playful  porpoise  it  really  was. 

Hence  now  it  was  only  with  a  sort  of  empty  feel- 
ing of  recurrent  boredom  that  its  various  watchers 

—  captains,  executives,  lieutenants,  ensigns,  quar- 
termasters,  yeomen,  bunting  tossers  and  lookouts 

—  experienced  this  sudden  relaxation  of  tautened 
nerves  and  gazed  lassitudinously  at  the  phenomenon 
of  an  ordinary  sloppy  sea  where  a  moment  before 
had  been  turmoil  and  the  flash  of  the  unusual. 

"  Hell's  bells !  "  ejaculated  the  captain  suddenly. 
"Where's  our  boat?" 

"Gone,  sir!"  echoed  several  amazed  voices,  as 
its  absence  was  suddenly  recognized. 

"  Row  of  heads  clinging  to  a  spar,  like  turtles  on 
a  log,"  reported  Lieutenant  Cherry,  whose  battle 
station  was  with  the  lookout  in  the  crow's-nest. 

"  Count  'em !  "  called  up  the  captain  anxiously. 

"Eight!" 


194       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"Thank  God!''  grumbled  the  captain.  "That 
includes  the  red-headed  nut  that  went  over  after  the 
pup.  Have  they  got  the  pup  too?"  he  inquired 
dryly. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  reported  Cherry  with  a  laugh.  "  He's 
running  up  and  down  on  the  spar." 

"  All  is  not  lost,  then,"  remarked  the  captain,  with 
a  sarcastic  sneer  at  his  own  fortunes.  "  We  have 
missed  the  sub  and  lost  a  boat,  but  we  have  rescued 
one  spotted  pup  from  the  watery  deep.  What  would 
have  happened  to  the  boat,  though  ?  "  he  suddenly 
demanded. 

"What  would?"  inquired  the  exec,  completely 
mystified. 

Ordering  his  helm  to  port  and  slowing  up  to  put 
the  second  lifeboat  down  Captain  Bill  passed  to 
windward  of  the  men  upon  the  spar,  some  of  whom 
had  now  straddled  it  perilously  and  were  employing 
both  hands  to  wigwag  the  story  of  their  misad- 
venture to  the  signal  man  upon  the  bridge  as  well 
as  to  anxious  and  inquiring  friends  who  strung 
themselves  out  along  the  deck,  in  whatever  posi- 
tions they  could  find  that  were  inconspicuous  from 
the  bridge  and  easily  visible  to  their  comrades  in 
the  water. 

"  He  says  a  sub  rammed  them  and  sunk  their 
boat !  "  reported  the  signal  man  to  the  captain  as 
he  gathered  the  first  intelligible  sentence  from  all 
this  eccentric  waving  of  arms. 

"  A  submarine !  "  ejaculated  Captain  Bill  unbe- 
lievingly. "  Can  it  be  that  the  other  one  was  lying 
round  up  here  ?  " 

"  Piece  of  wreckage  about  four  hundred  yards  to 
starboard  behaving  very  strangely,   sir,"   reported 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  195 

Cherry  from  the  crow's-nest.  "  Seems  to  be  mov- 
ing in  opposite  direction  from  other  drift,  with  some 
sort  of  commotion  in  water." 

"  It  might  be  the  sub.  Maybe  it's  fouled  some- 
thing," speculated  the  captain  excitedly,  and  with 
his  own  eager  hand  snatched  the  wheel  and  gave  it 
a  spin  to  port. 

"  They  say  they  tied  a  hatch  cover  to  the  sub- 
marine, sir,"  drawled  the  signal  man  imperturbably, 
his  face  still  bent  toward  the  enthusiastic  gesticula- 
tions on  the  spar.  "  They  say  it  went  to  starboard, 
and  you  can  follow  the  wake." 

"  Tied  a  hatch  cover  to  it  ?  How  in  blazes !  "  and 
Captain  Bill  broke  into  shouts  of  laughter.  "  Hell's 
bells!  There  are  just  two  men  on  earth  who  could 
have  done  that  stunt,  and  they  are  Ford  and  Ken- 
nedy." 

The  rescue  boat  was  quickly  launched,  and  the 
Judson,  swinging  again,  was  soon  where,  from  a 
spot  as  low  as  the  bridge  and  at  a  distance  of  one 
hundred  yards,  the  oddly  behaving  hatch  cover  was 
plainly  visible,  now  moveless  in  the  water,  now 
bobbing  slightly  like  the  cork  on  a  line  in  the  old 
fishing  hole  back  home  when  you  get  a  healthy  but 
tentative  nibble. 

;'  That's  him  all  right,"  gloated  Captain  Bill  glee- 
fully. "  He's  gone  down  as  low  as  he  can  stand 
and  is  nosing  along  looking  for  bottom  to  lie  on. 
I'll  bet  he  don't  know  we've  got  a  tag  on  him. 
What  do  you  think  of  that,  hey  ?  " 

And  the  jubilant  Captain  Bill  turned  to  note  that 
the  boat  had  reached  the  spar  and  picked  up  its 
load. 

"  Get  those  men  on  board  quick,"  he  ordered, 


196       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  so  I  can  drop  a  can.  There's  no  time  to  lose. 
The  line  might  part." 

"  What's  this  about  tying  a  teakettle  to  a  U-boat's 
tail  ?  "  Kirk  demanded  shortly  as  the  boat  came  up 
the  falls. 

"  Kennedy^aone  it,  sir,"  reported  Ma  modestly. 

"  The  captain  wants  you  on  the  bridge,  Kennedy," 
the  executive  announced;  and  Bilge,  considerably 
agitated,  dashed  for  the  bridge. 

"  Here !  Here !  Put  down  that  pup !  "  shouted 
Kirk. 

But  it  was  too  late.  Bilge  was  rushing  up  the 
ladder. 

"  Still  a-huggin'  that  wet  pup !  You  never  can  tell 
what  a  plain  ordinary  gob  will  do,  kin  you?  "  re- 
marked Ma,  though  more  in  admiration  than  in 
censure. 

And  Kirk,  thoroughly  exasperated,  admitted  that 
you  can't. 

"  What's  this  about  the  submarine  ?  "  demanded 
the  captain. 

Bilge  jerked  out  his  story  in  one  breathless  sen- 
tence. 

"  How  much  line  did  you  say?  " 

"  Three  hundred  feet,  I  guess,  sir,"  reported  Bilge. 
"  Maybe  more;  maybe  not  so  much." 

"  Set  the  depth  charges  for  one  hundred  and  fifty 
feet,"  directed  the  captain. 

An  ensign  hurried  aft  to  execute  the  order. 

"  Permission  to  keep  the  dog,  sir?"  inquired 
Bilge  respectfully,  appealingly.  "  He's  a  game  little 
tike,  sir." 

The  shivering  pup,  nestling  close  for  warmth 
against  the  wet  bosom  of  Kennedy,  which  could 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  197 

hardly  have  yielded  much,  looked  up  inquiringly 
into  the  captain's  eyes,  and  after  a  moment's  scru- 
tiny put  forth  an  approving  paw  as  recognizing  that 
like  himself  this  man  belonged  to  the  blood  royal 
of  a  fighting  line.  That  paw  sway  the  wavering 
captain,  who  was  naturally  in  a  moou  to  grant  Ken- 
nedy most  anything. 

"Yes,"  he  said;  "but  I  didn't  know  you  were 
going  to  jump  overboard  after  him." 

"  There  wasn't  time  to  think,  sir,"  apologized 
Bilge.  "  He  was  going  by  fast,  and  he  was  a  game 
little  devil,  so  I  just  jumped  in  and  got  him." 

"  Same  way  about  tying  a  can  to  the  submarine, 
I  suppose,"  said  the  captain,  unsmiling  but  with  a 
humorous  twinkle  in  his  eye.  "  No  time  to  think 
and  so  you  just  tied  a  tag  on  him  and  let  it  go  at 
that." 

"  We're  out  to  beat  the  Hun,"  grinned  Bilge.  "  I 
just  figured  if  we  could  hang  a  buoy  on  him  you'd 
do  the  rest,  sir." 

"  I  will,  Kennedy !  "  said  the  captain  grimly.  "  I 
congratulate  you.  It's  fellows  like  you  that  make  the 
war  absolutely  hopeless  for  Germany.  Here,  stand 
by  and  see  the  show.  Fact  is,  we'll  let  you  drop 
the  can." 

The  bridge  looked  at  Bilge  curiously,  in  his  soak- 
ing nether  garments,  but  to  their  curiosity  added 
smiles  and  admiration.  The  captain  had  motioned 
Bilge  to  the  small  hand  pump,  the  piston  of  which 
was  filled  with  glycerin  and  water.  The  lifting  of 
the  handle  would  release  a  depth  charge  far  in  the 
rear. 

Getting  up  the  speed  necessary  for  the  safe  firing 
of  depth  charges,  the  course  of  the  Judson  was  set 


198       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

to  cross  the  bow  of  the  slow-moving  hatch  cover 
at  a  distance  of  fifty  yards. 

"  Let  go !  "  the  captain  ordered  as  they  cut  the 
angle  at  the  spot  his  judgment  had  computed,  and 
Bilge  pulled  the  piston. 

For  a  few  seconds  there  was  silence  on  both 
bridges  and  along  the  deck,  and  every  eye  turned 
back  on  a  spot  in  the  wake  at  which,  when  two 
hundred  yards  astern,  the  solid  sheet  of  the  ocean 
seemed  to  crack  with  a  sound  like  smothered  thun- 
der, and  bridge  and  deck  pulsed  sharply  under  the 
feet  of  captain  and  crew. 

Swinging,  Captain  Bill  tried  to  sight  the  moving 
hatch  cover  again  with  intent  to  repeat  his  maneuver, 
but  at  first  could  not  discern  it;  and  when  he  did 
it  was  no  longer  moving  but  floated  innocuously. 
While  they  circled  it  the  surface  of  the  water 
changed  from  blue  to  dirty  gray  and  mottled  brown, 
with  specks  in  it  and  streaks  and  swimming  shreds 
of  things. 

"  There's  a  piece  of  the  oar,"  exclaimed  Bilge  as 
they  passed  through  this  dirty  gray,  which  is  the 
color  that  oozing  oil  makes  upon  the  waters.  "  You 
must  have  dropped  it  right  on  him,  captain/' 

They  came  back  over  the  spot  once  more,  and  this 
time  the  dirty  gray  patch  was  much  larger,  with 
air  bubbles  discernible,  and  bits  of  floating  fabric, 
some  horseshoe  life  preservers,  what  looked  like 
part  of  a  mattress  and  several  pieces  of  wooden 
gratings.  Again  the  second  whaleboat  went  down 
the  davits  and  took  samples  of  all  this  scrambled 
mess.  Among  other  things  they  gathered  scraps 
of  a  newspaper  printed  in  German  and  various  bits 
of  flotsam  that  suggested  Teutonic  origin. 


Bilge  and  Ma  Get  a  Sub  199 

"  Blew  her  wide  open/'  declared  Kirk. 

"  Looks  like  it,"  admitted  Captain  Bill  solemnly. 

Bilge  by  now  was  down  on  the  deck,  where,  hav- 
ing beguiled  the  cook  into  producing  and  heating 
some  condensed  milk,  he  was  feeding  it  to  the  pup 
from  his  own  mess  plate. 

"  That's  getting  'em !  "  said  Ma  as  he  lounged  up, 
still  soaking  and  too  excited  with  the  deeds  of  the 
moment  to  think  yet  about  donning  dry  garments. 
"  That's  getting  'em !  "  And  he  reported  what  the 
boat  was  gathering  in. 

"  That's  fighting  'em  with  our  hands  and  our 
feet,"  Bilge  laughed,  recalling  his  poetic  effusion  of 
years  and  years  ago  in  the  night  before. 

"  '  And  a  bomb  in  their  innard  parts,'  "  chuckled 
Ma.  "  Anyhow  I  feel  better  about  that  baby's  cap 
in  the  boat  now." 

"  Me  too,"  said  Bilge;  and  for  a  moment  the  two 
friends  were  grave,  but  wore  a  satisfied  air. 

Next  day  as  the  Judson  lay  in  port  the  carpen- 
ter's mate  was  painting  a  star  on  the  forward  stack. 

"  I  put  her  there,"  said  Bilge,  gazing  at  it  proudly. 

"  You  did,  durn  you,  with  some  mighty  good 
assistance  from  me,"  grunted  Ma.  "  Not  to  men- 
tion Captain  Bill." 

And  they  both  looked  respectfully  toward  the 
bridge,  which,  though  empty  now,  was  still  the 
symbol  of  his  presence. 


FOR  TWO  ORPHANS 

Fourth  of  July  was  coming  in  Ireland,  and 
there  were  to  be  doings  in  the  old  flotilla  with  a 
military  pageant  on  the  beach  at  night  and  field 
sports  in  the  afternoon  on  Lallyskallen  between  con- 
tending teams  from  each  of  the  mother-ships  and 
from  the  barracks,  with  perhaps  a  team  made  up 
from  the  destroyer  forces.  The  Admiral  sent  down 
a  signal  to  the  fleet : 

Officers  and  men  belonging  to  ships  in  the  harbor 
who  wish  to  take  their  personal  friends  to  sports  at 
Lallyskallen  may  do  so. 

"  Does  it  say  lady  friends  ? "  inquired  Bilge, 
anxiously. 

"  Can  a  lady  be  a  friend  —  these  yere  Irish 
ladies?"  intervened  Ma,  ironically.  "She's  either 
yore  sweetheart  or  yore  mortal  nemesis  —  that's 
how  I  dope  'em." 

"  It  doesn't  mention  the  sex.  If  you  call  them 
your  personal  friends,"  ruled  Yeoman  Leslie, 
"  they're  invited." 

Leslie  was  feeding  cigarette  papers  to  Engineman 
Bate's  little  brown  goat,  which  was  a  lovable,  pam- 
pered creature  and  cared  about  such  delicacies. 

"  Gee !  "  gasped  Jew  Dyckman,  he  of  the  stiff, 
luxuriant  black  pompadour  which  so  irritated  a  cer- 
tain executive  officer  of  a  certain  mother-ship  that 
whenever  he  caught  sight  of  it,  he  was  wont  to 
order  Jew  to  the  barber.     "  Gee !  "  gasped  Jew,  as 


For  Two  Orphans  201 

he  scrutinized  the  mimeographed  program  of  con- 
tests for  the  day.  "  There's  a  prize  of  fifty  pounds 
to  the  team  that  wins  the  most  points." 

Bilge  and  Ma  gazed  over  Jew's  shoulder,  also 
scanning  the  list  of  events,  and  neither  failing  to 
note  and  confirm  the  matter  of  the  fifty  pounds, 
though  they  strategically  refrained  from  comment- 
ing thereupon  in  Dyckman's  presence,  for  each  had 
the  same  thought  at  the  same  moment.  Eventually 
Bilge  plucked  the  sleeve  of  Ma,  and  the  two  retired 
for  conference  to  a  secluded  angle  of  the  deck  of 
the  Judson,  an  angle  screened  ahead  by  the  forward 
smokestack,  and  to  windward  by  deck  housings. 

"  We  ought  to  have  that  fifty,"  suggested  Bilge 
tentatively. 

"We  ort,"  admitted  Ma  tersely.  "  We-all  are 
a-goin'  to  need  it.  Do  you  allow  —  "  and  the  plain, 
likable  face  of  the  old-young  Texan  assumed  one  of 
those  peculiarly  feminine  expressions  of  mingled 
wistfulness  and  apprehension  which  had  earned  for 
him  his  ridiculous  maternal  sobriquet  —  "  Do  you 
allow  'at  we  could  somehow  another  git  up  a  team 
and  win  it,  and  leave  them  take  the  medals  and  us 
take  the  money?  " 

For  a  moment  the  red-headed,  freckled,  large- 
mouthed,  amiable  and  incurably  optimistic  Bilge 
weighed  the  selfishness  of  mankind  carefully  in  his 
eager  eye. 

"  No !  "  he  decided  with  emphasis.  "  The  only 
way  would  be  for  I  and  you  to  go  out  and  win  it 
ourself  —  win  more  points  between  us  —  " 

"  I  ain't  got  no  time  for  crazy  man's  talk,"  re- 
buked Ma  disappointedly. 

"  And  at  that  we'd  be  lucky  if  they  didn't  organ- 


202       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

ize  to  take  it  away  from  us,"  concluded  Bilge, 
having  ignored  the  outburst  of  Ma's  ingrained 
pessimism. 

"  Shucks !  Nothin'  that  we-all  try  ever  comes  to 
nothin'  nohow/'  peeved  Ma.  "  We  been  savin'  and 
savin',  and  we  never  do  get  enough.  All  I'll  have 
left  on  pay  day  is  seventeen  pounds,  and  I  reckon 
you'll  have  'bout  four.  What  the  Hades  is  twenty- 
one  pounds  in  —  " 

But  speculation  had  been  gleaming  bright  in  the 
clear  blue  eye  of  Bilge.  It  was  an  audacious,  an 
impossible  project  that  had  occurred  to  his  reckless 
mind;  therefore  the  idea  tantalized  and  fascinated 
him. 

"  We  might  get  away  with  it  at  that,"  he  inter- 
rupted enthusiastically.  "  I  ain't  so  sure  now  that 
we  couldn't." 

"  Couldn't  what?"  demanded  Ma  gloomily. 

"  Win  it  ourselves  —  just  I  and  you,"  proposed 
Bilge  coolly. 

"  Plumb  bug-house,  ain't  you  ?  "  inquired  Ma  dis- 
respectfully. 

But  the  rash  ardor  of  Bilge  would  not  be  damp- 
ened by  disrespect,  and  he  went  on  cunningly  to 
plant  an  irresistible  suggestion  in  the  mind  of  his 
shipmate  by  remarking: 

"  Phyllis  would  be  there  —  don't  you  think  ? 
Phyllis  and  Mona?  " 

Ma,  though  he  had  made  a  cynical  remark  about 
the  ladies  a  few  minutes  before,  started  noticeably. 
Bilge  was  getting  a  crush  on  Phyllis  of  late,  while 
Ma  had,  despite  the  happy  termination  of  the  affair, 
rather  avoided  the  New  York  Bar  since  his  encoun- 
ter there  with  Mrs.  O'Mahony.    This,  however,  only 


For  Two  Orphans  203 

resulted  in  his  discovery  of  Phyllis's  sister  Mona, 
who  dispensed  the  cheering  smile  and  the  foaming 
beaker  over  at  the  Baltimore  Buffet.  Mona  was 
possibly  less  attractive  physically  than  Phyllis,  but 
she  was  none  the  less  pretty,  and  she  had  a  sort  of 
deliciously  intimate  way  with  her  that  was  peculiarly 
warming  and  expansive  to  the  budding  tendrils  of 
regard  for  womankind  that  just  now  were  putting 
forth  in  the  shy  Texan's  heart. 

And  since  when  was  admiration  not  the  mightiest 
quickener  of  woman's  love?  Did  not  chivalrous 
knighthood,  which  lifted  wooing  from  an  impulse 
to  an  art,  always  delight  to  display  its  courage  and 
its  prowess  before  its  lady  fair?  And  did  not  Ma 
hail  from  that  sunny  region  beyond  the  southern 
Mississippi  where  most  men  are  brave  and  all  aspire 
to  be  considered  chivalrous  ? 

These  things  were  so  in  very  truth,  and  they  made 
it  exceeding  clever  strategy  on  the  part  of  Bilge  to 
suggest  that  Phyllis  and  Mona  would  be  present  at 
the  field  sports  on  Lallyskallen  to  stir  the  athletes 
to  their  best  and  witness  the  triumph  of  the  better 
men.  The  changing  of  expression  on  Ma's  face 
was  so  swift  it  was  ludicrous.  The  dark  eyes  roved 
restlessly  and  began  to  kindle;  the  gloom  upon  his 
features  became  transparent  and  then  was  banished 
by  a  brilliant  smile. 

44  Dog-gone  you,  Bilge !  "  he  said,  and  thereby 
tokened  his  surrender  to  a  darling  prospect. 

It  was  in  consequence  of  this  little  chat  that  every 
day  thereafter,  when  the  Judson  was  in  port  and 
liberty  time  arrived  for  Ma  and  Bilge,  instead  of 
going  on  the  beach  with  the  crowd,  they  took  boat 
to  Lallyskallen  and  worked  out  their  ship-cramped 


204       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

running  and  jumping  muscles  on  the  country  roads 
and  over  the  long  sweep  of  the  green  turf -sheathed 
hills  beyond  the  golf  course.  In  a  secluded  spot 
they  mapped  out  roughly  a  course  for  the  hundred- 
yard  dash,  and  then  a  flattened  circle  that  might 
rudely  correspond  to  the  two-twenty  and  serve  also 
for  the  four-forty  and  the  mile  runs;  and  with  a 
stop-watch  borrowed  from  Ordnance  Officer  Mc- 
Master,  who  was  always  splitting  seconds,  they 
timed  themselves  carefully. 

"  I  shore  do  hate  to  work  this  hard,"  wheezed 
Ma  one  afternoon  as  he  breasted  the  tape  at  the 
end  of  the  four-hundred-and- forty-yard  run  and 
went  rolling  and  sprawling  on  the  long  grass  under 
a  beech  tree.  "  It's  agin  any  Texas-born  nature  to 
use  his  legs  this-away  while  there's  a  hoss  on  earth." 

"  You  don't  know  any  other  way  to  get  fifty 
pounds,  do  you,  Ma?  "  inquired  Bilge  with  searching 
irony. 

"  I  shore  don't,"  admitted  Ma,  searching  for  a 
shamrock. 

"  And  we've  got  to  have  it." 

"  Right  agin,  partner.  Only  it's  this  yere  team 
business  —  not  even  the  Judson  crew  to  pick  from,' 
but  you  and  me  against  eight  hundred  men  on  one 
mother-ship  and  seven  hundred  and  ninety-two  men 
on  another,  and  against  the  barracks  team,  and  the 
flotilla  team,  and  like  as  not  a  limey  team  into  the 
bargain  —  it's  depressing  that's  all.  Howsomever 
—  go  to  it !  "  And  Ma  cheered  up  a  trifle  while  he 
held  the  stop-watch  and  Bilge  went  out  and  came 
charging  down  over  the  hundred-yard  course. 

"  Eleven  seconds  and  a  quarter.  That  ain't  so 
bad.     Bilge,  durn  me  if  I  don't  think  you  can  win 


For  Two  Orphans  205 

that  there  dash  —  with  a  week  or  two  more's 
training." 

"  'Course  I  can  win  it,"  panted  Bilge. 

"  At  that,"  reflected  Ma,  "  it  looks  like  we-all  are 
just  two  plumb  nuts  to  figure  'at  us  two  men  can 
beat  out  two  navies  —  " 

"  Nuts  nothing !  "  argued  Bilge  stoutly.  "  There's 
ten  events  and  the  winner  counts  five,  the  place 
three,  and  the  third  one  in  each;  and  we've  got  an 
honest  chance  to  win  every  one  of  'em  except  the 
shot-put  and  the  tug-of-war.  I'm  no  shot-putter, 
and  you're  too  light.  The  two  of  us  couldn't  win 
a  tug-of-war  against  a  bunch  of  limeys  even." 

"  Not  unless  we  hooked  on  the  Judson's  turbines 
somewhere  behind  us,"  concurred  Ma;  "but  the 
main  point  is,  Bilge,  we're  going  to  be  plumb  wore 
out.  You  kin  win  some  of  these  dashes,  yes.  So 
kin  I,  and  take  the  mile  mebbe;  or  if  we  wasn't  in 
nothing  else,  you  might  win  the  jumps  and  I  could 
grab  off  the  potato  race,  and  the  two  of  us  might 
get  by  with  that  there  three-legged  farce ;  but  takin' 
'em  one  after  the  other,  pardner,  I  tell  you  we're 
goin'  to  be  plumb  wore  out." 

"  Not  if  we  work  it  right,  we're  not,"  retorted 
Bilge  stubbornly.  "  We've  just  got  to  start  out  nat- 
urally not  to  be  a  hog.  Here's  how  we  do  it,"  he 
proceeded  to  explain  hopefully.  "  The  hundred- 
yard  dash  comes  first.  I  run  it  and  I  win  it.  That's 
five  points  to  start  with.  The  two-twenty  comes 
next.  While  I'm  laying  flat  on  my  bosom,  resting, 
you  run  in  that  and  you  get  at  least  a  place." 

"  More'n  likely  I  win  it,  and  you  get  nothin'  but  a 
place  in  that  first  race,"  amended  Ma,  peeved  at  not 
being  conceded  first  position  unquestioningly. 


206       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

Bilge  looked  displeased. 

"  Ma,"  he  pleaded,  with  the  air  of  patience  tried 
almost  too  much.  "Can't  you  be  modest?  Can't 
you  forget  that  Texas-bred  egotism  of  yours  for  a 
moment,  and  let's  dope  this  thing  out  right.  Any- 
way —  supposing  one  of  us  wins  one  of  those  races, 
that's  five  points;  and  if  the  other  gets  second  in 
his  race,  that's  three  more.  Then  comes  the  run- 
ning broad  jump.  I'll  be  fresh  enough  to  tackle  that 
then,  while  you're  resting,  and  let's  say  I  don't  get 
nothing  but  a  three  in  that.  That's  eleven  points 
in  the  first  three  events.  Then  we  can  afford  to  lose 
the  four-forty  or  the  mile.,, 

"  Lose  'em  ?  "  protested  Ma.  "I  kin  win  the  mile 
all  right ;  that  ex-professional  guy  on  the  Sunflower 
might  beat  me  in  the  four-forty,  but  there  ain't  no 
power  on  earth  can  take  the  mile  away  from  me, 
less'n  it's  a  hoss." 

Bilge  contemplated  for  a  moment  the  determined 
countenance  of  his  friend  and  then  proposed  craft- 
ily. "Tell  you  what,  Ma!  If  you're  uncertain 
about  the  four-forty,  lay  out  of  it  altogether  and 
rest  yourself.  Then  you  can  take  the  mile,  sure. 
That's  five  points  more." 

"  Sixteen  altogether,  ain't  it?  "  inquired  Ma,  who 
appeared  to  regard  Bilge's  last  suggestion  as  a  happy 
one. 

"  By  that  time,  I'm  rested,"  went  on  the  machin- 
ist's mate,  "  and  can  take  the  high  jump  easy. 
That's  twenty-one." 

Hope  kindled  in  Ma's  eyes  like  sunset  on  a  win- 
dowpane. 

"  Twenty-one'll  just  about  win  the  fifty  pounds, 
I  allow,"  with  a  lump  of  exultant,  anticipatory  joy- 


For  Two  Orphans  207 

embarrassing  speech;  "because  these  here  different 
teams  have  got  some  pretty  good  men.  They're 
li'ble  to  split  the  figures  up  between  'em  and  be 
pilin'  up  fifteen  or  sixteen  points  apiece,  while 
there's  less  than  a  hundred  altogether,  so  if  we  get 
to  twenty-one  points,  with  all  these  other  events  yet 
to  come,  we're  bound  to  pile  up  five  or  six  more, 
and  that'll  shore  win  for  us.  You  talked  me  over, 
Bilge,  I  admit.  I'm  not  never  a-going  to  doubt 
again." 

"  This  Fourth  of  July  celebration  was  sure  a  god- 
send to  us,"  commented  Bilge,  so  warmed  by  happy 
thrills  that  he  rather  overlooked  the  fact  that  the 
entire  affair  was  still  in  the  future. 

"  It  sure  was,"  agreed  Ma.  "  And  now,  if  you 
ain't  winded  yourself  complete  by  talkin'  about  how 
you  was  goin'  to  win  these  two  jumps,  you  better 
fish  that  tape  out  of  your  pocket,  and  I'll  measure 
off  the  landscape  and  see  what  your  flyin'  radius  is 
to-day." 

Bilge,  recalled  to  present  duty,  lifted  himself  ten- 
derly from  the  sod,  began  to  stretch  his  legs  and 
arms  and  back  muscles  by  way  of  getting  himself 
limbered  up  and  to  prance  slowly  down  to  the  take- 
off and  back  again. 

"  Sixteen-feet-four,"  reported  Ma,  after  the 
third  trial.  "  You  certainly  got  to  raise  your  tra- 
jectory some  if  you're  goin'  to  make  our  little  party 
a  happy  one  on  Independence  Day.  There's  a  gob 
in  one  of  these  '  white  lily '  bunches  that  can  jump 
seventeen  feet  any  time  without  much  tryin'." 

The  men  on  the  mother-ships  who  never  go  to 
sea,  but  work  all  day  and  often  all  night  in  the 
grease  and  grime  of   machine-shop  and   foundry 


208       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

until  they  look  like  black  men,  are  facetiously  dubbed 
"  white  lilies "  by  their  companions  of  the  sea- 
wasps. 

"I've  got  another  jump  in  me  now;  I'll  try 
again,"  proposed  Bilge. 

"No,  don't  you!"  admonished  Ma.  "You 
strained  enough  for  to-day  on  the  long  jump.  Put 
the  watch  on  me  while  I  tackle  the  two-twenty,  and 
then  you  can  have  a  hop  at  the  high  ones." 

So  the  two  inseparables  plotted  and  prepared  for 
some  weeks  in  the  month  of  June. 

The  Fourth  of  July,  nineteen  hundred  and  eigh- 
teen, was  a  beautiful  day  in  Ireland.  The  sun  was 
pleasantly  warm,  the  breeze  was  affectionately 
gentle;  no  rain  fell,  but  fleecy  clouds  feathered  the 
green,  hill-crowned  horizon  or,  singly  or  en  masse, 
frescoed  the  cerulean  blue  with  sailing  vapor-ships 
of  snowy  whiteness.  For  the  first  time  in  an  entire 
year  of  occupancy,  Sundays  also  considered,  the 
flotilla  declared  something  like  a  holiday.  To  be 
sure,  destroyers  came  and  went  to  sea.  Deep  in  the 
bowels  of  the  mother-ships,  forges  glowed  and  foun- 
dries smoked  and  smelled  and  transformed  molten 
streams  to  shapes  of  brass  or  steel;  lathes  still  turned 
and  hammers  rose  and  fell  on  mandril  and  rivet- 
head  ;  but  the  working  parties  were  reduced  as  low 
as  possible. 

All  morning  a  launch  patrolled  the  harbor,  with 
strains  from  the  band  it  carried  wafting  over  the 
waters,  and  a  huge  banner  stretched  fore  and  aft 
called  attention  to  the  field  sports  and  American 
Independence  Day  entertainment  provided  on  Lally- 
skallen.  All  morning,  too,  crews  in  the  mess 
kitchens  of  the  mother-ships  labored  at   freezing 


For  Two  Orphans  209 

giant  casks  of  ice  cream,  at  the  making  of  cakes  and 
pies,  and  at  the  compounding  of  mountains  of  sand- 
wiches, while  other  working  parties  extracted  quan- 
tities of  soft  drinks  from  the  storerooms  and  trans- 
ported them  to  places  of  absorption  on  the  Island; 
for  this  was  to  be  a  Fourth  of  July  that  as  nearly 
as  possible  approximated  the  home  order. 

Only  one  thing  lacked  —  noise.  Not  a  salute  was 
fired.  Not  an  ounce  of  powder  was  burned.  Not 
a  firecracker  popped  or  a  toy  torpedo  cracked.  It 
made  the  man  with  a  memory  reflect.  Back  in  the 
days  of  placid  peace  a  Fourth  was  not  a  Fourth  that 
was  not  noisy.  The  town  so  small  and  poor  it  did 
not  burn  fireworks  or  touch  off  cannon-anvils  or 
have  a  bonfire,  in  connection  with  which  prominent 
citizens  stood  up  to  make  speeches  —  the  town  that 
didn't  do  these  things  wasn't  really  a  town;  it  was 
only  a  crossroads. 

Now,  with  the  greatest  military  conflagration  in 
history  going  on,  these  men  of  the  destroyer  fleets 
who  for  a  year  had  spent  every  working  day  upon  a 
potential  battle  line,  and  who  in  the  month  behind 
them  had  delivered  a  quarter  of  a  million  battling 
sons  of  liberty  to  the  great  powder  holocaust  in 
France,  —  these  men  celebrated  Independence  Day 
with  no  louder  fulminations  than  the  crack  of  the 
merry  base  hit  or  the  smacking  of  lips  over  ice  cream 
when  ice  cream  has  not  before  been  tasted  since  the 
mother  country  was  left  behind. 

Toward  noon  the  bay  was  gay  and  busy  with  the 
cut  and  dash  of  hurrying  speed-boats  bearing  offi- 
cers and  their  guests,  and  with  the  huge  plodding 
motor-sailers  carrying  the  enlisted  men  to  the  field 
of  action,  while  old  side-wheeler  or  "  paddle-boats," 


210       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

as  they  call  them  over  here,  were  wheezing  up  to  the 
docks  and  blowing  whistles  and  making  ready  to 
take  off  the  local  population  in  considerable  num- 
bers, for  the  shopkeepers  and  publicans  ashore  had 
discerned  the  significance  of  the  day  to  the  best 
customers  that  had  ever  leaned  upon  their  counters. 
Abandoning  their  own  customary  half-holiday  on 
Wednesday  they  had  closed  for  all  day  Thursday  to 
give  themselves  and  their  employees  opportunity  to 
observe  their  American  cousins  at  the  audacious 
business  of  celebrating  on  Britannia's  soil  the  day 
that  made  her  American  colonies  no  longer  hers. 

And  the  British  naval  and  military  forces,  with 
good-humored  complaisance,  were  assisting.  Lally- 
skallen  was  a  British  Admiralty  possession.  A 
British  Admiral  had  crashed  out  on  his  radio  the 
signal  for  the  celebration.  On  a  scrap  of  rock  in 
the  center  of  the  bay,  the  white  ensign  of  the  British 
navy  and  a  beautiful  silken  banner  marked  with  the 
stars  and  stripes  kissed  the  breeze  from  the  same 
staff  and  held  each  other  so  close  that  the  two  devices 
seemed  to  run  together  and  say  the  same  thing  to 
all  the  world. 

Tramp !  Tramp !  Tramp !  echoed  the  hundreds  of 
feet  along  Black  Prince  pier,  as  the  passengers 
landed  from  the  boats  and  made  their  way  inward 
to  the  high,  verdant  crown  of  Lallyskallen  and  back 
to  the  flat  beyond  the  hill  where  the  games  were  to 
be  staged.  It  was  no  cinder-path  affair.  The 
tracks  were  fine  old  Irish  turf,  a  bit  lumpy  but  — 
tracks;  and  marked  out  by  hundreds  of  little  pine 
stakes,  and  these  stakes  were  tied  at  the  top  with 
red  and  white  and  blue  ribbons,  so  that  they  gave 
at  once  a  U.  S.  A.  appearance  to  the  mead.     Indeed, 


For  Two  Orphans  211 

at  a  distance  and  backgrounded  against  the  green 
sod,  they  suggested  that  some  Burbank  had  been 
producing  American-hued  daisies  among  the  Irish 
buttercups  and  clover. 

All  was  done  in  order.  The  Flotilla  Commander 
was  Judge  of  the  Course,  a  duty  which  he  appeared 
to  regard  as  purely  honorary.  The  judges  of  con- 
test, the  measurers,  the  announcer  and  the  starter 
were  junior  officers.  Each  wore  the  glove-fitting 
fatigue  uniform  of  a  commissioned  man  in  the 
United  States  Navy,  and  they  moved  about  the  scene 
with  a  snappy  stride  and  the  preoccupied  air  of  men 
whose  duties  were  grave.  They  were  supported, 
chaperoned,  and  advised  on  all  obscure  issues  by  a 
young  giant  wearing  the  uniform  of  a  lieutenant, 
who  oversaw  all  but  modestly  refrained  from  ac- 
cepting official  designation  on  the  program.  He 
was  a  famous  college  athlete  who  had  hurled  the 
discus,  put  the  shot,  and  tossed  the  hammer,  excelled 
at  boxing,  wrestling  and  high  jumping,  and  won 
track  and  field  events  galore.  His  very  name 
steadied  the  contenders  and  lent  dignity  to  the  pro- 
ceedings. 

And  the  senior  officers  of  the  fleet  contributed 
their  gold-braided  presence  grandly  to  this  pictu- 
resque occasion,  a  few  rare  captains  strolling  with 
dignity  or  standing  slightly  apart  with  that  rigidity 
of  pose  and  distinction  of  manner  which  is  the 
fitting  demeanor  of  a  four-striper  on  public  exhibi- 
tion. Commanders,  too,  and  lieutenant-comman- 
ders were  there,  —  younger,  lither,  with  the  light  of 
youth  still  burning  in  their  eyes,  striding  the  turf 
like  the  king  of  this  world  which  a  destroyer-captain 
feels  himself  to  be.     And  if  one  of  these  three- 


212       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

stripers  had  chanced  to  gather  in  from  among  the 
fine  homes  along  the  heights  an  Irish  or  an  Eng- 
lish lady  guest  or  two,  he  felt  at  least  like  two  kings, 
and  his  attendance  on  the  ladies  showed  how  well- 
rounded  is  the  training  at  Annapolis  which  equips 
a  young  man  —  with  the  added  experience  of  actual 
practice  —  not  only  to  take  his  chameleon-hued  little 
ship  over  trackless  seas  to  sure  contact  with  his  con- 
voy and  to  furnish  it  with  safe  escort  from  a  re- 
sourceful enemy,  but  equips  him  also  to  act  as  escort 
to  one  of  these  gayly  costumed  dames  of  the  British 
gentry,  or  mayhap  some  isolated  American  lady 
who  is  treated  as  if  she  too  were  nobility. 

There  were  British  officers  also,  army  and  navy, 
—  the  naval  men  in  the  blue,  double-breasted  coats 
of  their  uniform  with  the  straight  gold  rank  stripes 
upon  their  arm  that  indicated  the  men  of  the  line 
and  the  wavy  gold  ones  that  proclaimed  the  men  of 
the  reserve ;  and  the  men  of  the  army  in  their  khaki 
and  Sam  Brownes,  with  frequently  a  wound-chevron 
upon  the  sleeve.  They  were  hard-bitten,  competent- 
appearing  men,  all  of  them,  and  they  looked  with 
courteous  interest  at  the  preparations  for  the  field 
sports,  a  thing  in  which  their  knowledge  was  expert; 
but  turned  occasionally  with  a  mystified  air  at  all 
the  hubbub,  the  cracking  of  bats  on  balls,  the  thud- 
ding of  mits,  and  the  yawping  of  rooters  that 
emanated  from  the  baseball  diamonds  where  four 
teams  were  contending  with  each  other  for  the 
honor  of  a  final  play-off  as  the  climax  to  the 
day. 

Our  British  and  our  Irish  cousins  gave  evidence 
of  trying  hard  to  enjoy  the  game,  but  all  seemed  to 
end  with   studying  in   a  politely  baffled  way  the 


For  Two  Orphans  213 

incomprehensible  excitements  of  the  American 
onlookers. 

"  Brutal !  Bally  brutal,  don't  ye  know,"  decided 
one  of  them.  "  Fawncy  bowling  at  the  beggar's 
head  that  way.  Why  don't  they  let  him  wear  the 
mawsk  instead  of  the  chap  with  the  pad,  if  they're 
jolly  well  trying  to  bash  his  bally  bean  every  time 
he  comes  up  to  the  wicket."  After  three  innings  of 
determined  concentration,  he  had  reached  the  con- 
clusion that  the  root  idea  of  the  great  American 
game  was  for  the  pitcher  to  knock  the  batter  sense- 
less before  he  could  hit  the  ball. 

Ma  and  Bilge,  however,  concerned  themselves 
with  none  of  these  issues.  Two  men  cannot  make 
a  baseball  team,  even  when  the  pitcher  is  Ma  and 
the  catcher  is  Bilge.  Besides,  the  results  upon  the 
diamond  were  not  totaled  among  the  points  in  the 
field  contest. 

"  En-tre-e-e-s  for  the  hundred-yard  dash !  "  meg- 
aphoned the  announcer,  and  the  entries  were  duly 
recorded;  Higgins  for  the  Sunflower,  one  of  the 
mother-ships;  Sully  for  the  Primrose,  the  other 
mother-ship ;  Ellis  for  the  barracks,  and  Bilge  Ken- 
nedy for  — 

"  What  team,  Kennedy  ?  "  inquired  the  scorer. 

"  No  team,  —  just  Ma  and  I  —  Ford  here,"  stam- 
mered Bilge,  with  a  jerk  of  his  head  toward  the 
boson's  mate.  "  We've  organized  a  team  between 
ourselves  to  win  this  purse." 

"  Wha — what !  "  gasped  the  young  ensign,  barely 
repressing  a  smile. 

"  Yeh !  "  said  Ma  Ford,  pressing  up.  "  Kennedy 
and  me  are  together." 

A  look  of  mystification  grew  on  the  scorer's  face, 


214        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

and  he  turned  and  glanced  past  the  circle  of  judges 
gathered  round  him  to  the  tall  lieutenant  behind. 

"  Enter  him !  "  said  the  lieutenant  with  an  indul- 
gent smile,  and  a  true  athlete's  respect  for  heart  and 
nerve  and  ambition. 

"  What  ship  are  you  two  men  on  ?  "  inquired  the 
scorer. 

"  The  Judson." 

The  Judson  was  added  to  the  list  of  competing 
teams,  very  much  to  the  surprise  of  Captain  Wil- 
liam Bradshaw  when  he  saw  the  name  of  his  ship 
chalked  high  on  the  bulletin  board;  and  indeed,  it 
was  significant  of  the  kind  of  sea-duty  destroyers 
are  called  upon  to  perform  that  of  all  the  ships  of 
that  class  which  came  and  went  from  this  port, 
there  was  not  even  a  flotilla  team  made  up  from 
the  pick  of  all  of  them. 

"  No  sufficient  time  to  train,"  was  the  apology 
offered  by  a  gunner's  mate  off  the  McDonald. 
"  These  '  white  lilies '  can  get  on  the  beach  some- 
times every  day.  Us  destroyer  men  are  out  six 
days  and  in  maybe  two;  and  we've  been  so  pulled 
all  apart  by  the  jerk  and  jump  of  riding  these  calico 
bronchos  of  ours  through  these  combing  British 
seas  that  we  don't  any  more  than  get  ourselves  put 
together  and  our  universal  joints  tightened  up  be- 
fore it's  time  to  try  our  luck  outside  again." 

This  explanation  was  perfectly  sound  too,  only 
the  necessities  of  Bilge  and  Ma  had  led  them  to 
dare  and  even  to  hope,  in  spite  of  such  a  handicap. 

"  Clear  the  course !  "  megaphoned  the  announcer, 
and  the  crowd,  which  was  large  enough  to  represent 
the  flotilla  and  the  town  quite  respectably,  but  also 
small  enough  to  preserve  the  delightful  intimacy  of 


For  Two  Orphans  215 

a  village  fete,  obeyed.  In  consequence  of  this  spirit 
of  camaraderie  among  the  crowd,  the  story  of  the 
absurd  aspirations  of  Bilge  and  Ma  could  be  whis- 
pered from  lip  to  lip  and  chuckled  over  as  the  red- 
haired  machinist's  mate,  in  short  running  pants 
which  he  had  made  by  the  performance  of  a  capital 
operation  upon  a  pair  of  faded  blue  dungarees,  faced 
the  starter  and  drew  for  position  with  the  others. 

Ma,  on  his  arm  a  bucket  which  contained  a  sponge, 
a  towel,  a  bottle  of  water  and  some  lemons,  crowded 
close  and  communicated  final  injunctions  to  his 
team  mate. 

"  Git  away  fast,  Bilge !  "  he  whispered  hoarsely. 
"  Run  the  legs  plumb  off  these  yere  coots  in  the 
first  fifty  yards  and  then  don't  you  stop  runnin' 
neither.  If  you  beat  'em  bad  enough,  it'll  get  their 
nannies  complete,  and  make  it  easier  next  time." 

"  Get  set !  "  advised  the  young  lieutenant  with  the 
automatic.  The  runners  got  set.  Everybody  else 
round  that  pegged-off  space  got  set  also.  Even  the 
bored-looking  four-stripers  and  the  gold-banded 
British  rear-admirals  felt  the  strange  tensity  of  the 
moment. 

Crack!  went  the  pistol,  and  thud,  thud,  the  feet 
of  flying  runners. 

True  to  Ma's  instructions,  Bilge  was  away  as  if 
shot  from  a  gun,  but  half-way  down  the  course  he 
faltered  and  in  the  end  was  overhauled  and  finished 
third,  the  number  of  points  scored  for  which  position 
was  one.  The  crowd  applauded  the  victor  and 
laughed  good-naturedly  at  this  inauspicious  begin- 
ning for  the  aspiring  pair  of  young  men  from  the 
destroyer  Judson. 

"  One  p'int !  "  muttered  Ma  reproachfully,  as  he 


216       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

met  his  defeated  athlete  with  the  bucket  and  towel. 
"  One  p'int  don't  start  us  off  with  nothin'  much 
particular." 

"  I  stepped  in  a  hole  out  there/'  apologized  Bilge. 
"  It  near  threw  me  down,  and  then  I  couldn't  get 
my  stride  again.  .  .  .  Phyllis  —  did  you  make 
out  Phyllis  over  there  ?  " 

"  Phyllis !  "  frowned  Ma,  who  had  blanketed  his 
team-mate  with  the  towel  and  was  walking  him  up 
and  down  to  cool  him  out.  "  Phyllis,  huh !  So 
that's  what  made  you  throw  the  race.  I  seen  you 
lookin'  round.  By  thunder,  I  knowed  I  did.  You 
poor  coot!  You  turned  around  in  the  middle  of  a 
race  to  see  if  your  sweetheart  was  markin'  you  off 
proper,  and  —  shucks!  You  make  me  plumb  dis- 
gusted." 

Ma  fell  back  on  silence  and  refused  even  to  look 
at  Bilge  while  he  divested  himself  of  his  own  sur- 
plus garments  and  made  ready  for  the  two-twenty. 
Meanwhile  some  chalk  marks  had  gone  up  on  the 
bulletin  board  so  that  it  read:  Sunflower  5,  Prim- 
rose 3,  Judson  1.     Ma  turned  and  glowered. 

"  It'll  read  different  after  I've  run,"  he  boasted  to 
Bilge.  Bilge,  in  humble  mood,  pinched,  slapped, 
and  massaged  the  thin,  wiry  legs  of  Ma  and  did  to 
him  all  those  things  that  trainers  and  handlers  are 
supposed  to  do  to  athletes  in  the  endeavor  to  get 
them  ready  to  expend  their  muscular  energies  most 
supremely  when  the  decisive  moment  comes. 

"  I'm  a-goin'  to  walk  right  through  this  bunch 
and  throw  the  fear  o'  God  into  'em,"  blurbed  Ma. 
"  I'm  a-going  to  hoist  my  speed  cones  and  run  away 
from  'em  for  fair." 

"You  sure  are,  Ma,"  declared  Bilge,  devotedly 


For  Two  Orphans  217 

and  contritely.  "  I  feel  so  bad  about  me  making 
that  stumble,  I  could  cry."  The  freckled,  homely 
face  was  contorted  into  lines  of  still  greater  home- 
liness, and  it  did  indeed  look  as  if  the  pained  blue 
eyes  of  the  machinist's  mate  might  be  prepared  to 
shed  a  tear. 

"  Well,  it  ain't  no  use  to  cry,  buddy,"  soothed 
Ma.  "I'll  go  out  and  git  them  points  back  now, 
and  then  you'll  go  on  into  the  jumps  and  redeem 
yo'se'f." 

"  I  did  think  I  saw  Phyllis  over  there,  though," 
recalled  Bilge  and  turned  to  scan  the  crowd  again. 

"  Look  yere,  you  Bilge !  "  warned  Ma,  with  a 
direct  and  serious  glance.  "  Our  job's  cut  out  for 
us  to-day,  and  if  we're  a-goin'  to  win,  we  got  to 
everlastin'  forget  about  them  girls  and  go  to  it." 

"  You're  right,  partner,"  agreed  Bilge  docilely. 
"  I  wish  I  could  make  sure,  though,"  and  again  his 
eyes  searched  the  crowd  anxiously. 

"  The  next  race  —  two-hundred-and-twenty 
yards !  "  drawled  the  megaphone. 

Now  the  two-twenty  promised  to  be  a  gruelling 
affair.  Notwithstanding  his  air  of  boastful  self- 
confidence,  Ma  faced  the  starter  with  secret  misgiv- 
ings, having  heard  rumors  of  trie  fleetness  of  Davis, 
the  Sunflower  entry,  and  Rigg  of  the  Primrose. 
The  draw  went  against  him  too,  for  he  got  the  out- 
side. But  there  was  nothing  ailing  in  Ma's  courage. 
He  resolutely  planned  for  himself,  as  he  had  planned 
for  Bilge,  to  run  the  legs  off  his  contestants  in  the 
first  part  of  the  race. 

At  the  report  of  the  pistol  he  was  off  like  a  two- 
year-old,  and  at  the  turn  was  leading  and  taking  the 
inside  from  the  Primrose  man.     This  lead  he  held 


218       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

handsomely  in  the  back-stretch ;  but  on  the  far  turn 
something  went  wrong.  Ma  didn't  stumble  or  fall 
down  or  cease  his  stride;  but  his  swinging  legs 
appeared  to  make  no  progress  for  him  at  all,  and  one 
after  another  the  whole  field  passed  him  on  that 
turn,  so  that  he  was  rather  surprised  to  find  himself 
the  last  of  a  procession  of  laboring  athletes  when  all 
had  rounded  into  the  straightaway.  The  sight  of 
this  flying  column  in  front  of  him  served  to  recall 
Ma  to  himself;  his  feet  took  hold  upon  the  ground 
once  more,  in  consequence  of  which  he  overtook  two 
men  but  finished  fourth  in  the  race,  and  without 
therefore  so  much  as  one  point  to  the  credit  of  his 
team. 

A  fine  scorn  mantled  the  freckled  features  of 
Bilge  as  Ma  trotted  shamefacedly  toward  him,  with 
the  sun  in  his  beaten  eyes  and  the  breath  whistling 
through  his  parted  teeth. 

"  I  s-pose  you  got  an  alibi  of  some  kind,"  Bilge 
remarked  witheringly. 

"  I  have,"  panted  Ma.  "  I  seen  Mona  down  there 
at  that  far  turn,  hangin'  on  the  arm  of  this  white- 
headed  highbrow  yeoman  from  the  McDonald,  like 
pullin'-taffy  on  a  hook.  And  it  just  about  para- 
lyzed me.  For  a  few  seconds  I  didn't  know  I  was 
runnin'  at  all.  I  thought  I  had  knocked  that  guy 
down  and  was  just  dancin'  round  there,  kickin'  the 
living  daylights  out  of  him." 

"  That  was  exactly  what  it  looked  like  to  me," 
commented  Bilge  dryly,  "  some  kind  of  shadow- 
boxing.  It  sure  wasn't  running.  Listen  to  that 
now !  " 

The  megaphone  was  bawling  out  the  result  of 
the  second  race :  Barracks  5  —  for  a  dark  horse 


For  Two  Orphans  219 

from  the  Barracks  team  had  won  first  position  — 
Primrose  3,  Sunflower  1. 

The  score  on  the  Bulletin  board  now  stood  Sun- 
flower 6,  Primrose  6,  Barracks  5,  Judson  1. 

"  And  it's  my  1,"  reminded  Bilge  stingingly. 

"  It  shore  is,"  admitted  Ma,  with  deep  contrition 
in  his  tones. 

"  Ma,"  proposed  Bilge,  seizing  his  friend's  hand 
imploringly,  "  we've  got  to  forget  about  these  Janes 
of  ours,  or  we're  skinned  alive.  Let's  just  put  'em 
out  of  our  minds  entirely." 

"  Yore  dead  right,  mate,"  affirmed  Ma,  without 
reservation,  "  and  I  string  right  along  with  you  on 
the  proposition.  I  solemnly  swear  'at  I  hereby  re- 
nounce all  thought  of  womankind  from  now  on  until 
the  end  of  these  yere  events  that  we-all  are  a  con- 
tendin'  in." 

"  So  help  you,  Uncle  Sam !  "  affirmed  Bilge  sol- 
emnly, and  stretched  himself  with  something  like 
content  upon  the  turf  while  Ma  began  to  perform 
an  osteopath  sonata  in  ten  digits  and  sixteen  move- 
ments upon  his  legs  and  spine  with  a  view  to  getting 
Bilge  ready  for  the  broad  jump  which  was  intro- 
duced now  to  give  the  runners  who  might  wish  to 
contend  in  the  four-hundred-and- forty  yard  race 
an  opportunity  to  rest. 

The  course  for  the  running  broad  jump  was  natu- 
rally much  smaller  than  the  oval  of  the  track,  and 
the  crowd  pressed  thick  about  it.  Bilge  was  jump- 
ing only  fairly.  The  close  proximity  of  so  many 
careless  eyes,  the  sense  of  his  semi-nakedness  in  that 
skimpy  undershirt  and  those  abbreviated  dungarees 
made  him  self-conscious,  while  the  suspicion  that 
his  lank  figure  did  not  appear  to  best  advantage 


220        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

under  these  circumstances  created  in  his  proud  heart 
a  feeling  of  depression  that  hung  upon  his  limbs 
like  weights.  There  were  misgivings  that  weak- 
ened too,  —  the  fear  that  he  and  Ma  had  undertaken 
something  so  impossible  that  its  failure  would  ex- 
pose them  to  ridicule ;  and  Bilge's  fine  young  nature 
was  peculiarly  sensitive  to  ridicule,  especially  before 
Phyllis. 

And  Phyllis  was  there,  right  there  in  the  crowd, 
pressed  to  the  very  edge  of  the  course,  with  Chief 
Cook's  Mate  Stricklett  as  her  escort,  guide,  and  en- 
tertainer. Bilge  did  not  like  Stricklett.  He  had 
never  suspected  it  before,  but  now  he  knew  it  — 
knew  in  fact  that  he  hated  him  with  a  peculiar  and 
venomous  hate  that  could  only  be  wiped  out  in 
blood.  To  think  that  Stricklett  should  be  by  when 
Phyllis  was  seeing  him  beaten! 

Bilge  ventured  a  glance  at  the  fine  oval  of  Phyl- 
lis's  face.  There  was  anxiety  upon  it.  That  hurt 
him  again.  He  knew  her  loyal  nature.  He  knew 
that  when  all  this  crowd  was  laughing  at  the  absurd 
ambitions  of  himself  and  Ma,  Phyllis  had  not 
laughed.  She  had  believed.  She  must  have  even 
boasted,  —  and  to  Stricklett. 

The  Sunflower  man  jumped  sixteen  feet  six,  with- 
out much  trying.  Bilge  jumped  sixteen-eight  by  a 
supreme  effort.  The  Sunflower  man  jumped  six- 
teen-eleven.  Bilge  stole  another  look  at  Phyllis's 
face.  She  was  plainly  disappointed,  but  she  hoped 
yet. 

On  the  strength  of  this  hope,  Bilge  jumped  again, 
with  every  ounce  of  power  that  could  be  sent 
through  his  turbines.  Sixteen-ten  and  one  half  was 
all  that  he  could  do.     Half  an  inch  short.     A  smirk 


For  Two  Orphans  221 

appeared  on  Stricklett's  face.  Just  to  show  how 
easy  jumping  was  to  him,  the  Sunflower  man  jumped 
again,  his  last,  and  soared  coolly  seventeen  feet  two. 
Despair  settled  in  Bilge's  heart,  for  defeat  here  had 
a  double  significance.  It  meant  not  only  the  loss  of 
the  running  broad  jump,  but  it  meant  a  conclusive 
demonstration  of  the  absurdity  of  Ma's  and  Bilge's 
attempt  to  win  the  purse. 

But  Phyllis  Ryan,  bless  her  woman's  loyal  heart, 
stepped  right  out  into  the  pathway  where  Bilge  was 
turning  back  to  get  his  little  run  down  to  the  take-off. 
Phyllis  never  looked  prettier  or  more  attractive. 
She  wore  some  kind  of  transparent  hat  that  looked 
as  if  it  might  have  been  modeled  from  the  wings 
of  a  butterfly.  Her  light,  fluffy  hair,  her  china- 
blue  eyes,  her  smiling  red  lips,  the  sparkle  of  ani- 
mation on  her  face  with  that  extra  flush  which 
came  with  the  little  feeling  of  self-consciousness 
as  she  stepped  out  there  before  the  crowd,  —  this 
made  her  prettier  than  ever. 

And  right  in  view  of  everybody  she  caught  the 
hand  of  Bilge,  drew  his  ear  near  to  her  wistful  lips, 
and  whispered  something.  It  was  nothing  much 
she  said,  perhaps,  but  right  in  the  very  faces  of  this 
snickering  throng,  and  in  the  moment  of  his  pro- 
spective defeat,  this  sudden  and  bold  alignment  of 
feminine  charm,  of  youth  and  beauty  and  bright- 
ness to  his  cause  put  a  new  heart  in  the  breast  of 
Bilge  and  new  springs  of  steel  into  his  legs.  He 
bounded  back  up  the  line,  took  his  start,  ran  lightly 
to  the  take-off  and,  exercising  reserve,  even  in  the 
moment  of  triumph,  let  his  soaring  heels  descend 
into  the  soft  earth  only  three  or  four  inches  beyond 
the  best  jump  of  the  Sunflower  man,  whereas  he 


222       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

knew  he  could  have  jumped  nineteen  feet  as  easily 
as  seventeen-five  and  one  half. 

A  shout  went  up  from  the  crowd,  a  shout  followed 
by  chuckling  laughter  and  applause. 

"  Good  owld  red-top !  "  exclaimed  an  Irish  ma- 
rine, slapping  Bilge  excitedly  on  the  back,  with  true 
Hibernian  enthusiasm  for  the  achievements  of  the 
under-dog. 

"  'E  was  nawthin'  but  plyin'  wit  t'other  chap," 
opined  a  Tommy. 

But  it  was  a  contingent  from  the  Judson  that 
broke  out  most  vociferously.  At  first  the  Judson 
crew  had  felt  itself  compromised  if  not  shamed  at 
this  insane  freak  of  Bilge  and  Ma;  yet  the  popu- 
larity of  those  two  men,  taken  together  with  the 
loyalty  of  a  ship's  company  for  its  own,  which  on 
these  destroyers  is  greater  even  than  the  loyalty  of 
college  men  for  their  alma  mater,  made  them  wish 
to  encourage  and  applaud.  But  there  had  been  no 
ground  hitherto  for  encouragement,  no  occasion  for 
applause;  now,  therefore,  they  lifted  up  their  voices 
like  wild  men. 

Bilge  gave  his  first  grateful  glance  to  Phyllis, 
waved  his  hand  to  the  Judsonites,  and  then  turned 
to  his  team-mate  and  trainer. 

"  Dog-gone  you,  Bilge !"  said  Ma,  in  accents 
tender  and  admiring.     "  Dog-gone  you !  " 

"  Did  you  see  me  play  with  him  ?  "  inquired  Bilge 
exultantly. 

"  I  seen  you,"  grinned  Ma  knowingly,  "  and  I 
seen  her !  Now,  the  four- forty  for  me,  and  under- 
stand, this  time,  Bilge,  I'm  shore  going  to  win  it." 

"Win  it?  We  can't  help  but  win  it  with  these 
girls  pulling  for  us  the  way  they  are." 


For  Two  Orphans  223 

"  These  girls?"  iterated  Ma  pensively,  and  not 
without  a  touch  of  envy.  "  I  haven't  seen  but  one 
pulling  for  us  yet,  and  that's  yours." 

"  Well,  Mona's  pulling  for  you  too,  old  man," 
assured  Bilge,  "and  don't  you  doubt  it." 

"  Wisht  I  could  be  plumb  certain,"  confessed  Ma 
longingly,  as  he  extricated  his  leg  muscles  from 
under  Bilge's  pinching,  massaging  hands  and 
pranced  to  and  fro  upon  the  turf  by  way  of  gingering 
up  for  the  four-forty.  In  the  course  of  these 
prancings  he  paused  before  the  bulletin  board  and 
read  the  present  score  which  totalled,  after  the 
running  broad  jump : 

Sunflower  9,  Primrose  7,  Barracks  5,  Judson  6. 

"  We're  not  such  a  bad  fourth  at  that,"  remarked 
Bilge  hopefully. 

It  was  evident  that  the  crowd  had  also  noted  that 
the  position  of  the  two-man  team  was  not  altogether 
hopeless;  and  they  looked  Bilge  and  Ma  over  with 
something  like  respectful  interest  as  they  came  up 
together  to  draw. 

"  I  ain't  won  a  single  point  yet,"  confessed  Ma 
hollowly. 

"  You've  not  started  but  once,"  comforted  Bilge. 
"  You're  going  to  win  this  race,  and  then  we'll  be 
ahead.  Guess  these  chaps  round  here  won't  begin 
to  sit  up  and  take  notice  then,  what !  " 

"  If  I  could  only  git  one  look  at  Mona's  eyes," 
mooned  Ma,  "  it  would  seem  like  I  was  going  to 
have  some  luck  after  all." 

"  Yonder  —  yonder  she  is,"  exclaimed  Bilge  ex- 
citedly. "  She's  shook  that  tow-headed  yeoman,  and 
Phyllis  has  shook  Stricklett.  They're  together,  by 
cracky.     Look!     They're  lookin'  at  you.     Mona's 


224       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

smiling  and  nodding.     She  says  for  you  to  go  to  it, 
Ma,  and  hand  'em  the  blooming  rawsberry." 

"  I  got  her  signal,"  chuckled  Ma,  as  the  sunshine 
of  a  smile  entered  his  soul,  and  the  magnetism  in  the 
glance  of  a  pair  of  approving  eyes  galvanized  him 
into  consciousness  of  new  physical  powers.  "Bilge, 
what  would  this  world  be  without  woman  ?  "  he 
drooled. 

"  It  wouldn't  be  a  world;  it  would  be  a  navy," 
retorted  Bilge. 

"  And  I  would  desert,"  affirmed  Ma  shamelessly. 
"  Holy  heck !  Why  don't  they  let  me  git  off  now, 
while  I  got  my  storage  batteries  all  full  of  that  last 
smile." 

"  Take  the  lead  just  like  I  did,  and  hold  it," 
directed  Coach  Bilge. 

"  Nope !  "  muttered  Ma,  with  a  stubborn  shake 
of  the  head,  doggedness  being  Ma's  surviving  qual- 
ity. "  Nope !  I've  got  my  strategy  all  doped  out. 
I'm  a-goin'  to  run  second,  just  one  yard  behind  the 
leader,  it  don't  matter  how  fast  or  how  slow  he 
runs,  and  then  on  the  back  stretch  of  the  second  lap, 
I'm  goin'  to  hoist  my  speed  cones  and  just  naturally 
run  the  feet  plumb  off  him,  I  don't  care  if  he's  one 
of  these  hydra- footed  monsters  the  old  Greeks  used 
to  enter  in  the  Olympic  games  at  Stockholm." 

But  that  there  were  other  strategists  besides  Ma 
in  the  race  was  presently  made  apparent.  Some- 
thing like  collusion  developed,  as  if  it  had  been  de- 
cided that  this  Judson  team  was  dangerous  and  had 
to  be  killed  off  if  the  rest  of  them  were  to  have  a 
chance.  This  was  complimentary  but  embarrassing. 
Instead  of  Ma  running  anybody's  feet  off,  these 
contenders  coolly  set  out  to  pull  Ma's  lung  out  of 


For  Two  Orphans  225 

him.  One  of  them  took  the  lead  from  the  jump-off 
at  a  pace  so  tremendous  that  it  extended  the  Texan 
to  the  utmost  to  keep  that  yard  of  distance  he  had 
stubbornly  determined  upon.  When  this  leader  was 
winded  he  dropped  back  only  to  be  replaced  by 
another,  and  eventually  a  third  and  a  fourth,  so 
that  Ma  was  not  only  kept  extended,  but  he  was 
kept  worried,  and  anxiety  has  defeated  more  ath- 
letes than  muscular  exhaustion. 

Nevertheless  the  boson's  mate  of  the  Judson 
tenaciously  held  to  his  position  and  still  swung  his 
thin  legs  forward  one  after  another  with  clock-like 
rhythm,  planting  each  foot  with  that  air  of  decision 
which  says  so  much  ground  gained,  and  stretching 
out  eagerly  for  the  next  pendulum-like  stride.  In 
the  end  it  was  doggedness  that  won  —  doggedness 
and  Mona  —  for  the  other  runners  had  one  by  one 
shot  their  bolts  in  those  successive  challengings  of 
Ma.  Ma  also  might  have  faltered,  but  in  a  momen- 
tary lull  of  the  general  shouting  a  voice  came  to  him, 
—  the  voice  of  Mona,  calling  loud  and  earnestly : 

"  Come  on,  Priestley !  Come  on,  Priestley !  " 

Priestley  was  the  lost  given  name  of  Ma.  With  it 
he  had  been  christened  at  the  fount,  but  no  man  on 
the  Judson  had  ever  heard  it.  In  a  moment  of  pro- 
found intimacy  Ma,  never  rejoicing  in  the  nickname 
with  which  his  shipmates  hailed  him,  had  commu- 
nicated the  all  but  forgotten  "  Priestley  "  to  Mona 
like  a  secret  symbol;  and  she,  sweet  and  tender 
heart,  had  resurrected  it  now  from  the  limbo  of  a 
barmaid's  memory  of  confidences,  and  hung  it  be- 
fore the  tired  contender's  mind  like  some  heraldic 
banner  of  his  ilk  and  lineage. 

Ma's  very  heels  responded.     With  a  mighty  final 


226       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

leap  he  hurled  his  breast  against  the  tape  a  hair's 
breadth  before  the  Barracks  man  and  fell  exhausted 
into  the  arms  of  Bilge,  with  the  plaudits  of  victory 
ringing  in  his  ears. 

After  some  fresh  computations  the  bulletin  board 
indicated:  Sunflower  9,  Primrose  8,  Barracks  8, 
Judson  11. 

"  We  lead  by  two,"  marveled  Bilge,  almost  chok- 
ing over  the  lump  of  happiness  in  his  throat. 

"  Judson  team  1-e-e-a-d-i-i-n-g ! "  bawled  the 
megaphone,  as  if  fearful  that  the  fact  might  escape 
the  attention  it  deserved. 

The  crowd  cheered  approvingly  but  patronizingly, 
as  still  recognizing  that  this  ridiculous  two-man  team 
had  no  chance  to  win.  It  was  conceded,  however, 
that  its  presence  introduced  an  element  of  novelty 
into  the  contest,  and  all  decided  that  it  would  be 
interesting  to  mark  how  far  Bilge  and  Ma  would 
go  before  crushed  by  the  sheer  weight  of  numbers. 
One  distinct  diversion  in  favor  of  the  two  was 
created  as  the  men  of  the  other  destroyers,  scenting 
the  place  where  loyalty  belonged,  transferred  their 
allegiances  from  one  or  other  of  the  mother-ship 
teams  to  the  sole  representatives  of  the  men  who 
went  to  sea,  and  began  to  lift  clamorous,  concerted 
voices  in  behalf  of  their  two  audacious  mates.  It 
was  about  this  time  also  that,  from  the  Judson's 
complement,  a  group  of  volunteer  handlers  and  rub- 
bers led  by  the  Jew,  Spud  Murphy,  Bull  Bates,  and 
Wart  Kessler  advanced  to  take  possession  of  the 
tired  athletes,  so  that  neither  need  thereafter  employ 
his  scant  remaining  energies  in  acting  as  groom  to 
the  other.  Indeed  from  this  time  forward  the  dan- 
ger was  that  in  the  assiduity  of  these  new  knights 


For  Two  Orphans  227 

of  the  sponge  and  towel  Bilge  and  Ma  should  suffer 
rather  from  too  much  handling  than  too  little. 

Now  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  expenditure 
of  personal  effort  in  behalf  of  any  enterprise  con- 
duces to  personal  faith  in  that  enterprise.  Anyway 
this  group  had  pot  been  long  engaged  in  kneading 
the  flesh  and  titillating  the  nerves  of  Bilge  and  Ma 
before  deciding  that  their  two  charges  were  no 
longer  to  be  regarded  as  gallant  contenders  in  behalf 
of  a  forlorn  hope;  but  that  they  were  in  fact  the 
most  probable  winners  of  the  fifty  pounds.  So  sure 
did  they  become  of  this  that  subsequent  disposition 
of  the  fifty  became  a  matter  of  immediate  con- 
cern. 

"  What'll  we  do  with  it?  "  inquired  Dyckman,  as 
feeling  the  responsibility  most  keenly;  for  it  was 
generally  conceded  that  Jew  had  a  distinct  financial 
bent.  He  constituted  himself  the  treasurer  of  all 
below-decks  commercial  activities.  When  money 
was  to  be  collected,  the  Jew  did  it.  When  materials 
were  to  be  purchased,  for  a  "  bust,"  a  feed,  or  a 
riot  of  food  and  frolic  ashore,  Jew  did  it. 

"  Buy  a  lot  of  books  for  the  ship's  library,"  sug- 
gested Bull  Bates,  who  was  of  a  studious  turn. 

"  The  ship  hasn't  got  a  library,"  reminded  Leslie 
the  yeoman. 

"  The  chief  pettys  have  got  a  few  books,"  recalled 
Jimmie  Roser. 

"  Let's  have  a  library  —  an  enlisted  man's  li- 
brary," seconded  Bunny  Mclntyre  who,  with  his 
speculative  cast  of  mind,  honestly  desired  at  times 
to  read  something  of  the  sort  never  inserted  between 
the  gaudy  covers  of  a  magazine. 

"  Rot !  "  protested  Dutch  Domberg,  who  possibly 


228       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

could  not  read.  "  Let's  buy  a  mountain  of  grape- 
juice  and  give  ourselves  up  to  pleasure." 

"  Know  what  the  regiments  are  doing  in  France  ?" 
inquired  Jew,  bursting  with  suppressed  eagerness 
through  feeling  the  tickling  urge  of  one  great  idea 
tugging  like  a  captive  balloon  at  the  guy-ropes  of 
self-restraint. 

"  What  are  they  doing,  Jew  ?  "  demanded  Spud 
Murphy,  knowing  the  pains  of  self-restraint  to 
Dyckman  and  willing  to  be  merciful. 

"  They're  adopting  these  here  little  French  or- 
phans," expatiated  Jew,  with  a  fine  mingling  of 
pathos  and  eloquence  in  his  tones.  "  You  can  sup- 
port one  of  'em  a  whole  year  for  two  and  three 
pounds.  Companies  in  our  army  over  there  are 
adopting  five  or  six.  With  fifty  pounds  the  Judson 
could  be  parrain  to  a  dozen." 

"  'Tain't  a  bad  idea,  Jew,  at  that,"  conceded  Bull. 

"  Let's  make  it  girls,  every  one  of  'em,"  pro- 
posed Spud,  who  was  notoriously  soft  on  the  sex. 

"  Couldn't  we  take  on  about  three  boys  out  of 
the  twelve,"  put  in  Jimmie,  who  was  always  raving 
about  some  little  brothers  at  home. 

So  they  debated  while  they  hammered,  pinched 
and  pounded,  and  it  is  just  possible  that  Ma,  as  they 
rolled  him  vigorously  over,  yawned  and  exchanged 
a  wink  with  Bilge;  but  one  could  not  be  sure  upon 
this  point,  for  at  the  precise  moment  the  megaphone 
lifted  its  sonorous  wail  to  announce  the  high  jump. 

Bilge  Kennedy  went  coolly  out  and  won  that 
jump,  with  a  Barracks  man  second,  and  a  Primrose 
third,  which  left  the  total  score  to  read:  Sunflower 
9,  Primrose  9,  Barracks  11,  Judson  16. 

"  Ha !  Ha !  "  laughed  the  Independence  Day  cele- 


For  Two  Orphans  229 

brators,  and  broke  into  real  whole-hearted  cheering 
for  Bilge  and  Ma,  with  jibes  and  sallies  and  jeers 
for  the  other  teams. 

"  Come  yere,  Bilge,  and  let  me  kiss  you !  "  beamed 
Ma  happily.  "  Gittin'  kind  of  fed  up  with  us,  I 
reckon,  what !  " 

"  Yeh !  "  grinned  Bilge,  for  beside  thrilling  over 
the  joys  of  victory,  he  had  identified  an  excited  little 
squeal  of  ecstasy  from  Phyllis  that  was  more  than 
triumph  to  him. 

But  when  Ma  answered  the  call  of  the  starter  for 
the  mile  race  his  muscles  refused  to  respond.  The 
spring  had  not  yet  come  back  into  his  knees  after 
the  exertion  of  that  grim  half-mile.  Bilge,  who 
read  the  features  of  his  friend  as  if  they  had  been 
the  pages  of  a  newspaper,  saw  the  expression  of 
dismay  and  the  involuntary  headshake  of  misgivings 
on  his  tough  old  partner's  face  before  Ma  had  con- 
fessed a  word. 

"  We're  away  ahead  of  'em  now,"  he  suggested 
soothingly.  "  Lay  out  on  this  race,  Ma,  the  way  we 
planned  to  lay  out  on  the  four-forty." 

"  But  the  shot-put  and  the  tug-of-war  comes 
next,"  agonized  Ma.  "  We're  not  in  neither  of  'em, 
and  if  I  lay  out  of  the  mile,  —  " 

"  Why,  we'll  just  go  out  and  clean  'em  up  like  we 
started,"  boasted  Bilge,  with  confidence  undeflated. 
"If  you're  not  right  you'll  get  beat  anyway,  and  be 
all  worn  out  so  you  can't  do  any  good  in  the  spud 
race  or  the  three-legged,  and  we've  got  to  win  both 
of  them.     Lay  out  on  this  one,  Ma,  I  tell  you." 

"  I  guess  I  got  to,"  admitted  Ma  regretfully,  and 
yielded  himself  again  to  the  soft  green  turf  and  the 
hands  of  the  rubbers,  some  of  whom,  at  this  evidence 


230       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

of  excessive  leg-weariness  on  the  part  of  the  boson's 
mate,  began  to  look  gloomy  again  as  to  the  pros- 
pects of  the  team.  This  gloom  deepened  as  three 
events  were  now  reeled  off  without  a  point  being 
scored  for  Bilge  and  Ma.  A  Sunflower  man  won  the 
mile,  with  Primrose  second  and  Barracks  third,  so 
that  the  totaled  score  was :  Sunflower  14,  Primrose 
12,  Barracks  12,  Judson  16. 

The  Judson  team  still  led,  but  the  hammer  throw 
wiped  out  this  lead;  only  mercifully  Barracks  and 
not  Sunflower  won  first,  with  Primrose  second,  and 
Sunflower  third,  making  the  figures  on  the  score- 
board : 

Sunflower  15,  Primrose  15,  Barracks  17,  Judson 
16. 

Thus  in  two  events  Barracks  had  moved  from  last 
place  to  first,  with  Judson  second  and  the  other  two 
teams  tied. 

"  I'd  ought  to  have  run  that  mile,"  lamented  Ma. 
"  I  could  a  got  second  anyway,  and  now  if  Barracks 
wins  the  tug-of-war,  they're  so  far  ahead  we  cain't 
catch  'em  in  two  more  spasms,  and  that's  all  that's 
left." 

"  They  won't  win  it,"  maintained  Bilge  stub- 
bornly; and  he  was  right,  for  Primrose  won  the 
tugs,  Sunflower  second  and  Barracks  third.  This 
left  the  team  standing : 

Sunflower  18,  Primrose  20,  Barracks  18,  and 
Judson,  as  before,  16. 

The  most  comforting  feature  of  the  situation  now 
was  that  the  tugs-of-war  had  taken  a  long  time  to 
pull  off,  and  both  Bilge  and  Ma  were  as  fresh  as 
the  breeze  from  the  sea. 

"  And  now,  thank  God,"  said  the  machinist's  mate 


For  Two  Orphans  231 

reverently,  "  we  can  both  jump  into  that  potato 
race,  and  I'll  take  the  first  and  you  can  take  the 
second.  That'll  give  us  eight  points  and  put  us 
away  out  on  the  horizon.  What  we'll  pick  up  in 
the  three-legged  will  cinch  it  for  us." 

But  it  appears  that  in  a  potato  race  the  laurel  is 
not  so  much  to  the  strong  as  to  the  spry.  The  win- 
ner was  an  overlooked  contestant  from  the  barracks, 
James  Joseph  Mahan  by  name,  a  midget  in  size  and 
a  jockey  by  pre-naval  occupation.  Jock  Mahan  had 
no  more  surplus  meat  on  his  bones  than  a  spider, 
and  he  danced  so  easily  and  swiftly  back  and  forth 
between  his  galvanized  iron  bucket  and  his  line  of 
spuds  upon  the  greensward  that  his  victory  was 
dazzling.  The  dogged  Ma,  however,  managed  to 
come  in  second  with  three  points,  while  the  toggle- 
jointed  Bilge  did  well  to  get  third;  but  third  added 
one  more  point  to  three,  making  four,  and  four 
added  to  the  previous  sixteen  made  twenty.  The 
Barracks,  however,  with  a  gain  of  five,  had  pushed 
into  first  place  again  with  23,  Primrose  and  Sun- 
flower still  retaining  their  former  20  and  18, 
respectively. 

Bilge  was  profoundly  discouraged. 

"  Second  place  in  the  three-legged  will  win  for 
the  Barracks/'  he  groaned.  "  We  got  to  make  first 
or  we  lose,"  and  the  machinist's  mate  shook  the 
shock  of  red  hair  from  his  dejected  eyes,  and  with 
another  glance  at  the  score  board  discerned  some- 
thing else.  "Yes;  and  if  Primrose  gets  first  they 
win,  or  if  Sunflower  gets  it  they  tie  with  Barracks 
and  we  are  out  of  it  again.  Ain't  it  fierce,  though, 
for  us  all  to  come  scrabblin'  down  to  the  wire  to- 
gether like  this?"     Bilge,  panting  on  the  sward, 


232       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

kicked  up  his  heels  disconsolately,  barely  missing 
rubber  Murphy's  nose. 

"  The  three-legged  race  is  lible  to  be  comedy, 
though,"  reflected  Ma  who,  having  come  in  second 
in  the  potato  race,  was  in  better  spirits  naturally. 
"  Maybe  it  didn't  never  occur  to  these  yere  other 
teams  to  git  off  in  a  field  by  their  lonesome  selves 
and  practice  this  three-legged  running  the  way  we-all 
have." 

"  Maybe  not,"  conceded  Bilge,  with  a  very  dim 
light  of  hope  beginning  to  kindle  in  his  blue  eye. 

"  Don't  fail  to  count  now,  one-two,  one-two,  so 
we  keep  steppin'  it  off  together,"  muttered  Ma,  as 
he  submitted  to  having  his  right  leg  bound  to  the 
left  leg  of  Bilge  so  that  the  two  respective  feet 
must  be  planted  as  one. 

"  I'll  count  all  right,"  whispered  Bilge.  "  I  bet 
that's  a  piece  of  tactics  that  hasn't  occurred  to  any 
of  these  other  gobs  at  all."  And  he  looked  round 
with  a  certain  sense  of  superiority  on  the  comic 
scene  where  right  legs  and  left  were  being  effectively 
harnessed  together  by  a  group  of  perspiring 
C.P.O.'s,  impressed  by  the  judges  for  that  purpose. 

"  And  don't  you  forget  that  naturally  you  step 
about  six  inches  longer 'n  what  I  do,"  admonished 
Ma. 

The  interest  of  the  thronged  onlookers  was  now 
intense.  They  had  not  failed  to  notice  the  peculiar 
balance  in  the  scores.  It  knew  that  three  of  the 
contending  teams  had  it  in  their  power  to  win  the 
contest  with  this  race,  while  even  the  fourth  could 
tie  it.  The  adherents  of  the  respective  teams  knew 
this  also.  They  split  the  air  with  cheers  and  cries, 
with  jibes  and  challenges,  while  the  leg-bound  ath- 


For  Two  Orphans  233 

letes  had  their  ears  bombarded  with  advice  and 
suggestions  flung  at  them  by  trainers  and  coaches, 
official  and  unofficial. 

Yet  clearly  as  the  contestants  had  been  made  to 
understand  the  serious  import  of  this  final  event, 
the  farcical  element  in  the  situation  excited  their 
risibilities.  All  were  unsteadied  by  ripples  and 
gurgles  of  mirth,  —  all  except  Ma  and  Bilge.  The 
Barracks  team  was  nearly  helpless  from  laughter, 
tall  Jim  Hance  alleging  that  his  side  partner,  little 
Billy  Nelson,  was  tickling  him. 

"  Go !  "  shouted  the  starter,  who  had  used  up  all 
his  blank  cartridges. 

The  crowd  also  shouted,  "  Go,"  and  the  braces 
of  runners  leaped  forward,  some  of  them  to  totter 
into  immediate  disaster,  others  dashing  forward  at 
surprising  speed  but  moving  on  uncertain  tangents 
as  muscles  trained  to  obey  two  different  wills 
wrestled  with  each  other,  and  the  stronger  swung 
the  weaker  on  a  course  to  starboard  or  to  port,  with 
consequent  zig-zagging  effects  all  over  the  track. 

But  down  through  this  absurd  field  of  struggling, 
laughing,  charging  athletes,  counting  loudly  and 
obviously,  "  One-two !  One-two !  One-two !  "  to 
synchronize  their  stride,  came  the  lumbering  Bilge 
and  Ma.  They  moved  more  slowly  than  some  of  the 
racers,  yet  more  methodically  and  effectively  than 
any.  In  the  first  forty  yards  they  had  distanced  all 
competitors  save  one  team.  In  the  next  twenty 
yards  they  were  passing  this  team. 

"  Come  on,  Judson!  "  bawled  the  crowd  hoarsely. 

"  Come  on,  Priestley !  "  shrilled  the  encouraging 
voice  of  Mona. 

"  Come  on,  Addison !  "  squealed  Phyllis  excitedly, 


234       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

and  thus  was  Bilge's  own  flossy  prenomen  given 
abruptly  to  an  unsuspecting  world  quite  as  recklessly 
as  Ma's  had  been. 

Under  the  impetus  of  an  appeal  like  that  both  men 
quickened  stride,  and  perhaps  Ma  forgot  to  count. 
Anyway,  it  was  afterwards  admitted  that  Bilge  for- 
got to  limit  his  stride  and  swung  that  long,  seven- 
leagued  leg  of  his  forward  with  a  momentum  that 
plucked  Ma's  supporting  leg  from  under  him,  and 
down  the  two  went,  with  the  onfloundering  pair 
whom  they  had  just  passed  stumbling  over  them  and 
all  sinking  together  in  one  red  burial  blent,  like  the 
dead  at  Waterloo,  the  red  being  supplied  by  the 
lurid,  luxuriant  pompadour  of  Bilge. 

For  a  moment  there  was  pictured  a  wildly  scram- 
bled cinema  of  arms,  legs,  heads,  hands,  elbows, 
and  other  squirming  portions  of  semi-clad  human 
anatomy ;  while  the  crowd  shrieked  with  excitement 
or  bellowed  with  laughter,  and  two  young  women 
quite  forgot  themselves  and  came  dancing  out  upon 
the  course.  It  now  appeared  that  there  was  one 
thing  Bilge  and  Ma  had  forgotten  to  rehearse, 
and  that  was  getting  up  in  case  they  fell  down;  for 
to  rise  quickly  from  a  prostrate  position  while  one's 
leg  is  bound  to  the  leg  of  another  man  requires  a 
degree  of  concerted  action  of  which  two  average 
untrained  humans  are  quite  incapable.  The  course 
was  now  strewn  with  couples  who  had  fallen  down 
and  who  were  unable  to  get  up  and  to  stay  up. 

In  verification  of  that  scripture  which  proclaims 
that  the  last  shall  be  first,  the  lead-off  couple,  having 
fallen  first  and  therefore  having  had  the  most  prac- 
tice in  attempts  to  arise,  were  now  upon  their  feet 
and  charging  the  goal  line.     They  too  had  grasped 


For  Two  Orphans  235 

the  advantage  of  Ma's  tactics  in  counting  and  were 
coming  down  the  sward,  one-twoing  loudly. 

"  Roll,  Priestley,  roll !  "  screamed  Mona. 

"  Roll,  Addison,  roll! "  echoed  Phyllis. 

The  possibilities  in  such  a  procedure  became  in- 
stantly apparent  to  Bilge,  who  gathered  Ma  to  his 
bosom  with  a  preparatory  clasp,  while  the  latter 
swung  himself  over  with  a  kick  that  started  them  off 
with  a  considerable  degree  of  centrifugal  impetus. 
Bilge  added  to  this  as  he  flung  over  Ma,  and  thus, 
over-and-under,  over-and-under,  like  a  spinning  bar- 
rel, they  compassed  the  last  ten  yards  to  the  goal 
and  leaped  up  to  breast  the  tape  and  collapse  upon  it 
a  yard  ahead  of  the  next  contestants,  who  had  fallen 
again  and  were  themselves  resorting  to  the  body- 
spin. 

As  the  white  tape  snapped,  there  was  an  instant 
uproar,  the  mixture  of  cheers  and  protest,  with  the 
cheers  eventually  drowning  the  protest,  as  the 
judges  ruled  that  all  was  fair  in  three-legged  races 
that  got  the  racers  over  the  course. 

But  with  all  the  spinning  of  his  head,  Bilge  could 
still  do  arithmetic,  and  he  got  a  terrible  shock  as  he 
studied  the  writhing  pair  who  had  just  rolled  in 
behind  them. 

"If  that's  Barracks  winning  second,  they've  got 
us,"  he  gasped.  "  I  never  thought  of  it  before,  but 
twenty-three  and  three  makes  twenty-six,  and 
twenty  and  five  only  makes  twenty-five.' ' 

For  the  two  of  them,  though  plaudits  still  rang 
in  their  ears,  there  followed  a  moment  of  awful 
agony. 

"  It's  not,"  shouted  Bilge,  as  identification  became 
possible,   his   speech  taking  the   form  of  a  vocal 


236       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

explosion  that  suggested  great  relief.  "  It's  the 
Sunflower  twins." 

"  We've  won,  Bilge,"  gulped  Ma  happily.  "  We- 
all  have  done  won." 

In  confirmation  of  this  fact  their  handlers,  who 
had  been  excitedly  cutting  them  apart,  lifted  the 
two  men  upon  their  shoulders  and  began  a  triumph- 
ant procession  over  the  field,  which  the  band  hastily 
departed  from  its  position  on  the  side  of  the  course 
to  lead. 

"  Lemme  down,"  protested  Bilge,  as  soon  as  he 
could  visualize  the  spectacle  he  and  Ma  must  be 
making,  in  their  abbreviated  undershirts  and  ampu- 
tated dungarees,  when  thus  held  forth  to  the  gaze 
of  the  mixed  multitude.  "  Lemme  down  and  get 
some  clothes  on." 

Eventually  the  hilarious  celebrants  did  let  Bilge 
and  Ma  down,  and  the  Judson  ship's  company  hung 
a  blue- jacket  curtain  of  humanity  about  that 
trampled  spot  upon  the  sod  which  had  served  as 
their  reviving  room.  When  the  toilet  of  the  two 
tired  but  happy  athletes  was  complete,  they  repaid 
their  Judson  mates  for  this  devotion  by  hanging  the 
bucket,  with  the  towel,  the  sponge,  the  bottle  and 
the  remains  of  lemons,  upon  the  arm  of  one  and 
incontinently  deserting  all  to  make  for  a  friendly, 
spreading  elm  beneath  which  Phyllis  and  Mona 
waited,  both  to  give  and  to  receive. 

"  See  you  at  the  club  to-night,"  reminded  Jew, 
in  parting,  for  there  remained  yet  another  chapter 
in  this  history  of  fifty  pounds,  and  that  night  there 
were  indeed  big  and  significant  doings  at  the  Naval 
Men's  Club. 

To   begin   with,   the  building  was   packed   and 


For  Two  Orphans  237 

jammed.  There  were  twelve  hundred  men  inside 
of  it;  there  were  twelve  hundred  men  who  were 
turned  away  because  it  wouldn't  hold  them.  The  of- 
ficers had  one  wing  of  the  gallery;  the  chief  pettys 
had  the  other;  the  floor  was  possessed  by  the  en- 
listed men.  Our  British  cousins  were  there,  — 
Tommy  in  his  khaki,  the  tars  in  their  blue  with  linen 
sailor  collars,  the  marines  in  their  burnished  brass 
buttons  and  snappy  red  edgings.  First  and  foremost 
the  enlisted  man  of  the  United  States  Navy  was 
there,  packing  every  unoccupied  bench,  crowding 
himself  like  putty  into  every  crack  and  crevice,  or 
festooning  his  long  form  over  jutting  braces,  rods 
and  struts,  or  perched  on  bits  of  gymnasium  appara- 
tus that  had  been  pushed  back  against  the  wall 
to-night  to  give  every  possible  bit  of  seating  space. 

On  the  stage  for  a  time  a  minstrel  show  held 
forth,  but  presently  gave  way  to  a  military  pageant 
led  by  that  always  appealing  "  Spirit  of  '76  "  trio, 
whistling,  fifing,  and  drumming  for  liberty,  and 
supported  now  by  Uncle  Samuel  and  Johannus  Bull, 
both  looking  very  martial,  and  in  their  turn  followed 
by  all  their  gallant  allies,  France  and  Italy,  Belgium 
and  Serbia,  Portugal  and  Greece,  and  so  on  to  the 
end  of  the  list  of  the  twenty-seven  or  more  of  them; 
with  the  band  walloping  out  a  medley  of  national 
airs,  stressing  the  Marseillaise  and  concluding  with 
that  bi-national  tune  which  is  "  America "  in  the 
U.  S.  A.  and  "  God  Save  the  King  "  in  most  of  the 
rest  of  the  world. 

The  men  on  the  seats  thumped  and  stamped  and 
shouted  as  the  lines  of  waving  color  marched  and 
countermarched,  but  the  climax  was  reached  when, 
with  the  formation  in  two  long  lines  that  met  up- 


238        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

stage  in  the  point  of  a  V,  an  unmistakable  American 
lassie  came  on  in  the  garb  of  a  Red  Cross  nurse, 
escorted  on  the  one  hand  by  an  American  soldier, 
rifle-armed,  and  on  the  other  by  an  American  sailor, 
also  rifle-armed,  the  one  upholstered  in  khaki  and 
the  other  in  his  proper  blue.  The  Red  Cross  girlie 
took  position  upstage  where,  with  a  single  dramatic 
riot  of  color  and  movement,  the  Stars  and  Stripes, 
the  Union  Jack,  the  tricolors  of  France,  Italy  and 
Belgium,  suddenly  appeared  intertwined  above  her 
head,  with  all  the  other  national  pennants  and 
guerdons  fluttering  round,  while  still  the  soldier  and 
the  sailor  guarded  stoutly. 

For  a  moment  the  music  stilled.  The  very  cheers 
were  hushed.  Then  it  was  proven  that  the  Ameri- 
can bluejacket  is  incurably  sentimental.  It  may 
have  been  that  one  touch  of  femininity  amid  all  this 
massed  manhood.  It  may  have  been  the  unex- 
pressed suggestion  that  it  is  for  woman  that  this  war 
is  being  fought  —  to  shield  her,  protect  her  and  her 
right  to  love,  to  virtue  and  to  hope  —  that  it  is  for 
her  that  so  many  flags  have  been  unfurled,  so  many 
bosoms  bared  to  shot  and  gas.  On  the  other  hand 
it  may  have  been  the  sentiment  that  the  Red  Cross 
inspires,  or  the  mere  uprising  of  chivalry  in  the 
male  heart,  backed  by  this  massing  of  suggestion  on 
suggestion,  of  appeal  to  one  sacred  memory  after 
another,  —  anyway,  and  however  it  came  to  be, 
there  was  silence  for  a  time  in  the  Men's  Naval 
Clubhouse  in  this  port  of  missing  submarines. 

Officers  with  gold  stripes  upon  their  arms  were 
digging  at  their  eyes,  quite  unashamed;  hardened 
chief  pettys  who  would  as  soon  be  seen  turning  their 
backs  to  a  foe  as  displaying  emotion  before  the  other 


For  Two  Orphans  239 

ratings,  were  doing  the  same  thing.  But  no  one 
need  have  considered  what  the  enlisted  man  was 
thinking.  He  wasn't  thinking  —  exactly.  He  was 
feeling  —  more  deeply  than  he  had  ever  felt  before 
upon  this  subject.  And  they  sat  very  still,  breathing 
deeply,  resolving  deeply! 

Then  the  band  began  to  play,  softly,  unobtrusively 
at  first,  and  then,  slipping  into  a  galloping,  well- 
known  tune,  some  voice  was  lifted  in  that  absurd 
familiar  parody  about  putting  the  Kaiser  into 
Heligoland. 

The  men,  after  this  period  of  suppressed  emotion, 
leaped  upon  the  words.  With  a  mighty,  stentorian 
shout  they  lifted  them  till  they  all  but  raised  the 
glass  roof  of  the  old  baths  which  have  been  trans- 
formed into  this  very  serviceable  clubhouse. 

This  was  rather  an  unplanned  result.  It  was  a 
sort  of  unexpected  by-product  of  the  work  of  the 
executive  officer  of  a  mother-ship  whose  stage-man- 
aging ability  had  produced  the  pageant,  after  com- 
mandeering the  talent  from  among  the  men  who 
spend  all  their  days  hammering  boiler  iron  or  pound- 
ing sand  into  foundry  molds  or  superintending 
lathes,  or  performing  any  one  of  that  vast  intricacy 
of  mechanical  tasks  that  are  necessary  in  order  to 
keep  a  flotilla  of  destroyers  fit  and  fighting  in  the 
sea. 

But  there  was,  along  with  this  unplanned  result 
of  the  executive  officer,  the  carefully  planned  one  of 
Bilge  and  Ma;  for  somewhere  in  the  middle  of  this 
program  of  frolic  and  patriotism,  the  American 
Consul  had  been  led  to  a  place  on  the  stage  beside  an 
easel  which  supported  a  velvet  board  covered  with 
the  glittering  medals  to  be  presented  to  the  winners 


240       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

of  the  day's  events.  The  Consul  was  vastly  embar- 
rassed and  as  nervous  as  any  sweet  girl  salutatorian 
on  Commencement  eve,  but  true  to  the  traditions  of 
his  country,  his  tongue  attached  itself  readily  to 
felicitous  phrases,  as  one  by  one  he  presented  the 
medals  to  the  winners. 

There  were  several  repeaters  among  these  medal 
winners,  but  none  who  repeated  with  the  shameless 
frequency  of  Bilge  and  Ma.  One  or  the  other  of 
them  seemed  marching  on  or  off  the  stage  all  the 
time.  The  appearance  of  either  the  one  or  the 
other,  —  Bilge,  long,  fed,  grinning  cheerfully ;  Ma, 
dark,  wiry,  frightfully  fussed,  —  was  the  signal  for 
cheers  and  whistlings.  As  again  and  again  they 
came,  were  decorated  and  went  forth,  the  line  of 
hardware  lengthened  on  their  breasts  till  they  began 
to  sag  on  the  left  shoulder  and  besought  the  Consul 
to  begin  to  hang  things  on  the  starboard  bosom,  as  it 
were,  that  their  appearance  might  get  what  the  sub- 
marine man  calls  a  better  trim.  Last  of  all  they 
came  on  as  the  winning  team  in  the  contest  for 
points,  to  receive  the  purse  of  fifty  pounds. 

"  You  have  won  these  medals  and  this  handsome 
purse,"  said  the  handsome  Consul,  "  mostly  for  ex- 
hibitions of  speed.  Speed  is  what  is  wanted  to  win 
this  war.  Speed  up !  Telegraph  it  home  —  speed 
up!" 

Again  an  audience  that  seemed  never  to  grow 
hoarse  vociferated  its  appreciation  of  the  nerve  and 
luck  of  Ma  and  Bilge,  and  of  the  happy  aptness  of 
the  counsel  of  the  diplomat.  But  when  the  two 
walked  off,  there  was  a  delegation  from  the  Judson 
awaiting  them,  headed  by  the  Jew  with  outstretched 
hand, 


For  Two  Orphans  241 

"  We  are  going  to  adopt  twelve  French  war  or- 
phans with  it,"  he  announced  with  pleasant  assur- 
ance. 

"  You  are,  hey !  "  exclaimed  Bilge,  with  an  instant 
hardening  of  his  complaisant  features. 

"  Sorry,"  said  Ma  firmly,  "  but  we-all  promised 
it  a-ready  to  a  couple  of  American  war  orphans." 

"  Yes,"  averred  Bilge,  "  we  have." 

"  A  couple  of  American  war  orphans !  "  mur- 
mured the  Jew,  temporarily  disconcerted  by  the 
seriousness  with  which  this  proposition  was  ad- 
vanced. But  it  occurred  to  Spud  Murphy  inno- 
cently to  inquire : 

"What  orphans?" 

"  Bilge  and  me,"  answered  Ma  gently. 

"Bilge  and  you!  What  for?"  demanded  the 
Jew,  waking  up  to  his  accustomed  aggression. 

"What  for?  For  London,"  declared  Bilge 
sententiously. 

"  You-all  didn't  think  we-all  was  a-goin'  out 
there  and  run  and  jump  our  fool  heads  plumb  off* 
for  you-all  loafers  to  decide  what  we  did  with  this 
fifty  pounds,  did  you?"  inquired  Ma  cynically. 
"  We're  goin'  on  London  leave  to-morrow  —  seven 
days  of  it  —  and  we  just  naturally  needed  to  fortify 
our  pockets  a  little  for  the  trip,  so  we  went  out  and 
won  it.  So  long,  boys.  I'll  mention  yore  good  in- 
tentions, Jew,  to  the  King.  Maybe  he'll  send  you 
the  D.S.O." 


VI 
LONDON  LEAVE 

"Lord!  What  we  will  do  to  that  old  town!" 
ejaculated  one. 

"  What  we  will !  "  chuckled  the  other. 

The  whistle  upon  the  little  play-engine  attached  to 
a  train  of  British  carriages  upon  an  Irish  railway- 
had  emitted  a  nice,  ladylike  premonitory  toot.  This 
toot,  however,  was  quite  unregarded  about  the  door- 
way of  the  compartment  where  a  group  of  sailors 
from  the  Judson  was  bidding  noisy,  jocular  and 
envious  farewell  to  Kennedy  and  Ford.  With 
some  eighty  pounds  in  their  possession,  the  most  of 
which  was  pinned  for  safe-keeping  in  the  inner 
pocket  of  Ma's  blouse,  he  having  elected  himself 
treasurer  of  the  pair  with  only  a  single  dissenting 
vote. 

"  So  long,  you  Bilge  and  Ma,"  sang  out  Jew 
Dyckman,  stimulated  to  hilarious  excitement  by  the 
same  occasion  which  had  affected  Abner  Anderson 
so  conversely  that  he  was  even  now  whispering 
gloomy  warnings  into  Ma  Ford's  ear. 

"  Look  out  for  this  darned  nut,  Kennedy,  when 
you  get  him  up  to  London  is  my  opinion,"  Abner 
concluded,  with  a  pessimistic  shake  of  the  head. 
•  ■  He's  got  the  same  chance  to  stay  there  a  week  and 
not  get  put  into  the  Tower  for  high  treason  that  I 
have  to  be  promoted  to  aid-de-kong  of  our  limey 
Admiral." 

But  the  happily  contented  Ma  felt  himself  en- 


London  Leave  243 

tirely  competent  to  restrain  the  exuberances  and 
eccentricities  of  the  auburn-haired  machinist's 
mate. 

"  He's  as  safe  as  Democracy  with  me,"  he  assev- 
erated, and,  hailing  from  Texas,  Ma  held  himself  to 
be  reasonably  careful  of  the  welfare  of  Democracy 
which,  of  course,  he  spelled  with  the  large  D,  con- 
ceiving of  no  other  sort. 

"  'Ware  the  wild  women,  Bilge !  "  Bunny  Mcln- 
tyre  was  counselling  sagely.  "  Better  look  up  one 
of  these  Y-hut-mothers  the  minute  you  hit  town  and 
give  her  all  your  money  but  about  two  pounds,  and 
report  to  her  every  day  for  counsel  and  advice." 

"  Hut-mothers !  "  scorned  Bilge. 

"  Hut-mothers  ?  "  inquired  Ma.  "  Why,  Bunny, 
you  talk  like  Bilge  and  me  was  a  pair  of  bleatin' 
lambs.  We-all  ain't  doughboys;  we're  sailors. 
We've  took  care  of  ourselves  in  every  port  in  the 
world,  Port  Said  included." 

"  London's  different,"  argued  Bunny  seriously. 

"  Diff'ent?  It  ain't  no  diff'ent  than  what  Waco 
is.  Hello!  We're  shovin'  off.  Good-by,  you-all. 
Take  good  care  of  the  good  ship  Judson  and  good 
care  of  Captain  Bill." 

It  was  true  that  in  that  silent,  almost  ghostly 
fashion  which  European  trains  affect,  this  particular 
string  of  rolling  equipment  had  started.  The  fringe 
of  clustering  bluejackets  pattered  along  the  plat- 
form, clinging  to  the  window,  shouting  final  remind- 
ers of  commissions  to  be  executed  and  last  words 
of  warning,  of  admonition,  and  of  jest  until  accel- 
erated speed  shook  off  even  the  most  daring  and 
persistent  of  them,  and  Bilge  and  Ma  looked  about 
to  discover  themselves  entirely  alone  in  a  third-class 


244       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

compartment  in  which  regulations  provide  that  en- 
listed men  shall  travel. 

"  We're  on  our  way,"  gurgled  the  red-head,  ex- 
citement lighting  his  blue  eyes  and  vibrating  in  his 
voice. 

"  I  allow  'at  we  are,"  admitted  Ma,  chewing  gum 
steadily  while  he  looked  out  at  the  streaming  Irish 
landscape,  patches  of  trees,  flashes  of  roadway,  the 
ruins  of  an  old  castle,  and  glimpses  of  the  River  Lee. 

It  was  a  green,  green  land,  and  it  afforded  a  sin- 
gularly peaceful  prospect  with  the  little,  black  Kerry 
cows  browsing  the  clover  by  an  amber  stream,  with 
lambs  gamboling,  with  goats  nibbling,  white  geese 
strutting,  and  chickens  speckling  the  hillside  about 
white-walled,  brown-thatched  cottages  from  which 
lazy  curls  of  peat  smoke  were  rising. 

"  Appears  like  there  can't  be  no  war  anywheres," 
Ma  remarked  meditatively  and  glanced  across  at 
Bilge;  but  the  message  of  all  this  tranquil  beauty 
had  rather  lost  itself  upon  the  machinist's  mate.  He 
had  broken  into  happy  song,  and  the  song  just  now 
ended  in  a  wild,  hair-raising  whoop. 

"  Just  so  blamed  happy  I  could  throw  myself  out 
of  the  window,"  he  explained  to  Ma's  inquiring 
look.  "  There  isn't  an  officer  in  sight.  There  isn't 
a  clock.  There  isn't  a  bugle  call.  There  isn't  a 
Chief  Petty  a-going  around  and  a-taking  the  joy 
out  of  life  by  telling  me  to  repack  twenty-nine 
valves  or  plug  two  hundred  and  eleven  condenser 
tubes.  I'm  on  leave !  For  seven  days  I'm  my  own 
boss.  I  belong  to  the  greatest  country  in  the  world. 
I'm  going  up  to  visit  the  greatest  city  in  the  world. 
There'll  be  theaters  and  girls  and  life !  And  some- 
thing to  eat  besides  Navy  Chow." 


London  Leave  245 

Ma  vibrated  to  the  thrill  in  Bilge's  voice,  but 
philosophized  after  his  sober,  reflective  fashion :  "  If 
it  wasn't  for  you  and  me,  I  reckon,  and  a  whole 
lot  of  other  gobs  on  destroyers,  theirs  and  ours, 
there  wouldn't  be  nothing  so  much  to  eat  in  London 
right  about  now." 

You're  right,  old  man,"  agreed  Bilge.  "  They 
might  be  missing  a  meal  once  in  a  while  if  it  wasn't 
for  us.  I  guess  that's  why  I  feel  like  I  do,  Ma," 
he  bubbled,  "  about  going  up  to  London.  Why,  I'm 
going  to  her  like  she  was  an  old  sweetheart  awaiting 
for  me.  She'll  be  glad  to  see  us,  all  right.  Some 
little  time  we'll  have  in  London,  what !  " 

Now  it  so  happened  that  any  excess  of  optimism 
on  Bilge's  part  generally  evoked  a  corresponding 
pessimism  or  cynicism  on  Ma's;  and  this  last 
gurgling  speech  of  the  machinist's  mate  easily 
amounted  to  excess. 

"  She  will  all  right  while  our  money  holds  out," 
drawled  Ma.  "  I  suppose,  Bilge,  you  got  it  all 
figured  out  how  she'll  turn  out  the  band  for  you, 
and  how  the  King  and  Queen  will  come  down  to 
Euston  Station  to  give  you  the  freedom  of  the  city 
and  tell  you  to  make  your  regular  hang-out  at  Buck- 
ingham Palace,  huh  ?    That  the  way  you  feel  ?  " 

Bilge  dodged  the  wet  blanket  of  Ma's  pessimism 
and  chose  to  testify  further  as  to  the  exact  state  of 
his  feelings  by  releasing  another  war  whoop. 

"  By  jinks !  "  reproved  Ma.  "  You're  goin'  shell- 
shock,  just  like  Ab  said  you  was." 

"  I'm  not,"  insisted  Bilge  stoutly  —  "  but  only  I 
just  feels  so  good  to  be  on  leave  that  it  tickles  — 
actually  tickles  all  over.  Away  down  in  the  bottom 
of  my  boots  it  tickles." 


246       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

Bilge  stretched  his  long,  rangy  frame  and  broke 
into  uproarious  laughter. 

"  I  itch!  "  he  announced  bluntly,  when  his  laugh- 
ing fit  was  over. 

"  That  ain't  nothin'  remarkable,  I  guess,"  re- 
marked Ma  sarcastically. 

"  I  itch  to  do  something,"  explained  Bilge.  "  I'm 
just  so  full  of  the  old  T-N-T  that  I'm  liable  to  blow 
right  square  up.  I've  got  to  match  my  strong  young 
strength  against  something,  Ma,  or  die  of  ongwee 
before  we're  fifty  miles  out  of  port." 

"  You  better  cut  off  a  couple  of  boilers  and  slow 
down,  is  my  opinion,"  remarked  Ma  dryly,  viewing 
his  friend  both  with  disfavor  and  apprehension  as 
he  recognized  the  symptoms  of  a  growing  irrepres- 
sibleness  of  spirit.  "  You'll  be  blowin'  out  a 
cylinder  head  directly." 

"  Tell  you,  Ma,"  proposed  Bilge  enthusiastically. 
"  Let's  kidnap  this  train.  Next  time  it  stops  at  one 
of  these  dinky  little  stations,  you  grab  the  engine, 
and  I'll  pick  up  the  whole  train  of  cars  and  let's 
carry  'em  off  somewheres  and  play  with  'em." 

"  Take  'em  to  London  with  you,  maybe,"  sug- 
gested Ma  witheringly. 

"  That's  the  idea,"  declared  Bilge  with  emphasis. 
"  Take  'em  down  and  show  'em  off  in  the  side  show 
at  Piccadilly  Circus." 

"  Crazier  and  crazier !  "  frowned  Ma.  "  Picca- 
dilly Circus  ain't  a  regular  circus,  you  darned  fool. 
It's  just  some  cross-roads." 

"It  isn't?  Where  do  you  get  that  stuff?"  in- 
quired Bilge,  suddenly  serious.  "  All  my  life  I've 
been  reading  about  Piccadilly  Circus.  I've  seen 
Sells  Brothers  and  Ringling  and  Fred  Stone;  but, 


London  Leave  247 

wait,  I  always  said  to  myself,  wait  until  you've  seen 
Piccadilly  Circus." 

"  It's  a  round  place,  I  tell  you,  made  out  of  a 
bunch  of  street  corners,"  persisted  Ma.  "  There's 
Oxford  Circus  and  a  lot  of  others,"  and  the  Texan 
sailor-lad  produced  the  map  from  which  the  night 
before  he  had  divined  the  information  which  was 
probably  full  as  disappointing  to  him  as  to  Bilge. 

"  Then  I'll  make  a  circus  of  my  own,"  declared 
Bilge,  "  and  I'll  make  it  right  here.  Good-by.  I'm 
going  out  for  a  little  walk."  With  the  train  going 
—  nobody  ever  knows  how  fast  these  English  trains 
are  going,  they  steal  along  so  smoothly  —  but  with 
the  train  speeding  rapidly,  Bilge  stepped  out  of  the 
door  and  disappeared. 

The  compartments  in  these  third-class  cars,  it 
may  be  explained  to  the  American  reader,  open 
direct  either  upon  the  station  platform  or  on  to 
space.  It  was  on  to  space  that  the  door  had  opened 
now  with  Bilge,  and  on  to  space  that  Ma  gazed, 
frozen  with  horror  for  one  palsied  instant,  after 
which  he  thrust  his  head  out  and  squinted  back  for 
a  sight  of  a  whirling  body  spinning  end  over  end 
along  the  right  of  way  to  final  collapse  and  con- 
fusion in  a  heap  of  old  blue  rags. 

Instead  he  beheld  Bilge  dizzily  prancing  along 
the  footboard  of  the  car,  swinging  from  door  handle 
to  door  handle,  and  as  he  passed  the  doorway  of 
each  compartment,  he  thrust  in  through  the  open 
window  thereof  a  merrily  waving  hand,  and  it  was 
plain  from  the  movement  of  his  face  that  he  shouted 
some  gay  greeting  to  his  fellow  passengers  within. 

"  And  this  train  doin'  forty  knots !  "  gasped  Ma. 
"  One  of  them  handles  will  pull  out,  or  a  door  will 


248       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

swing  open,  or  his  foot  will  slip,  and  he'll  get  his 
cupola  knocked  off." 

"  Bilge !  You,  Bilge ! "  he  screamed.  As  well 
scream  to  the  whirlwind.  Bilge  could  not  hear. 
Besides,  he  was  having  too  good  a  time  to  stop  if 
he  had  heard.  The  sight  of  startled  faces  within 
and  the  thrill  of  joy  as  he  matched  his  sinewy  thews 
successfully  against  the  laws  of  gravitation  and  the 
forces  of  centrifugal  motion,  compounded  an  ecstasy 
in  his  bored  soul. 

"  The  idiot  will  get  killed  right  at  the  beginning 
of  his  leave,"  muttered  Ma,  regarding  death  for  a 
sailor  under  such  conditions  as  doubly  calamitous. 

Throwing  off  his  flat  circular  hat  beside  the  hat 
of  Bilge  upon  the  seat,  he  swung  out  also  and  went 
chasing  monkey-like  along  the  side  of  the  carriage. 

"  'Tain't  so  much  to  do,"  he  remarked  to  himself, 
"  not  after  riding  the  decks  of  the  Judson  in  that 
December  storm.  Why,  say,  this  is  kind  of  like 
taking  an  evening  stroll  for  me  —  for  a  deck  man. 
But  for  Bilge,  that  durned  machinist's  mate,  that's 
used  to  nothin'  but  iron  ladders,  it's  different." 

He  hurried  along  the  footboard  bent  on  rescue 
and  restraint;  but  Bilge,  having  come  to  the  end  of 
the  carriage,  instead  of  turning  back,  coolly 
stretched  his  long  arms  and  his  equally  long  legs 
across  the  gap  between  the  two  carriages  and  con- 
tinued on  that  mad  way  which  invited  death  at  least 
at  every  bridge  and  signal  post  that  stood  close 
enough  to  the  roadway  to  threaten  to  sweep  him 
off.  The  consternation  Bilge  produced  among  the 
passengers  was  witnessed  plainly  enough  by  Ma,  as 
he  swept  past  window  after  window,  in  the  startled, 
frightened  faces;  but  try  as  he  would,  he  could  not 


London  Leave  249 

overtake  his  friend  until,  away  up  by  the  first-class 
coaches,  the  latter  had  turned  about  because  he  had 
come  upon  the  end  of  the  train. 

"  Great,  ain't  it?"  Bilge  shrieked  into  Ma's  ear, 
and  clapping  a  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  his  mate, 
held  him  fast,  despite  the  swaying  of  the  train. 

Ma,  meanwhile,  was  aware  of  a  beautiful,  excited 
face  in  the  compartment  just  before  them,  a  face  on 
which  alarm  and  instant  resolve  were  painted  as  a 
white  jeweled  hand  went  up  and  caught  at  the 
emergency  chain.  Automatically  the  air  was  ap- 
plied, and  the  train  came  to  a  sudden  stop  in  the 
middle  of  a  hayfield,  with  the  engine  driver  and 
various  guards  hastily  dropping  off  and  coming  back 
to  investigate,  while  the  face  of  the  frightened  lady 
appeared  once  more  at  the  window,  and  Ma  dis- 
cerned afresh  that  it  was  a  very  beautiful  face. 

"  Oh,  oh,  you  dear,  reckless,  American  boys !  " 
she  exclaimed,  in  tones  whose  richness  was  like 
music  and  whose  culture  was  unmistakable. 

Bilge,  already  sobered  by  the  unlooked-for 
result  of  his  mad  prank,  reddened  in  embarrassed 
silence. 

"  Shucks !  "  apologized  Ma,  boring  one  abashed 
toe  into  the  cinders.  "  We  was  just  havin'  a  little 
fun,  your  —  your  majesty." 

It  seemed  to  the  courteous  young  Texan  that  this 
wonderful  creature  must  at  the  very  least  be  maj- 
esty; although  at  the  sound  of  the  word  she 
laughed,  a  silvery,  relieved  peal  of  laughter.  By 
this  time,  however,  the  anxious  engine  driver  was 
on  the  scene,  demanding  bluntly :  "  'Oo  applied  the 
bryke?" 

With  no  signs  of  bloody  tragedy  about  and  two 


250       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

American  sailors  staring  at  him  with  signs  of  con- 
straint in  their  manner,  he  began  to  suspect  that  he 
had  been  hoaxed.  Everywhere  heads  were  thrust 
out  of  windows.  Yet  the  one  person  who  should 
tell  about  pulling  the  emergency  chain  had  heard 
the  question  rather  absently.  She  was  lost  with 
admiring  inspection  of  the  American  sailors,  so 
immaculately  dressed  in  their  dark  blues,  so 
smoothly  shaven  and  cleanly  tonsured,  with  such 
excellent  clear  eyes  and  ruddy  sea  complexions. 
Neither,  she  reflected,  was  exactly  handsome;  in 
fact,  the  red-headed  one  was  rather  plain,  but  they 
looked  so  wholesome  —  so,  so  — 

"  You  two  bloomin'  Yanks  —  you  pulled  the 
chyne !  "  accused  the  engine  driver  truculently. 

"  Yeh !  I  pulled  it !  "  confessed  Ma  mendaciously, 
still  chewing  his  cud  of  gum  and  staring  at  the 
engine  driver  with  hard,  impenetrable  eye. 

"  Why  —  why,"  exclaimed  the  lady  quickly. 
"  No !    I  pulled  it  —  by  —  by  accident." 

"  It  was  a  very  grave  accident,  my  lady,"  said 
the  engine  driver,  with  dignity,  lifting  his  cap.  "  It 
is  very  much  regretted." 

Regretted  is  a  crushing  word  over  here.  When 
the  head  of  an  official  department  has  a  perfectly 
crushing  rebuke  to  administer  to  a  subordinate  who 
has  failed  or  erred,  he  sends  him  a  little  note  which 
begins:  "It  is  very  much  regretted,"  etc.,  and  the 
reprimanded  one  mopes  in  his  heart  for  years  or 
mayhap  commits  suicide. 

But  the  lady  in  the  compartment  did  not  mope. 
She  only  looked  relief  from  her  dark  eyes,  relief 
and  further  admiration  for  the  sailor  men.  The 
engine  driver,  however,  still  retained  his  suspicions. 


London  Leave  251 

"  You  two  Yanks  might  be  at  the  bottom  of  this 
accident,  anyw'y,"  he  decided  shrewdly.  "If  you 
ply  any  more  pranks  on  me,  I'll  'ave  the  constable 
tyke  you  hoff  at  the  next  stytion.  You're  drunk, 
anyw'y." 

"  Intoxicated !  How  absurd !  "  reproached  the 
lady  with  the  eyes. 

"Will  you  be  responsible  for  them,  Ma'am? 
They  were  running  up  and  down  on  the  footboard," 
said  the  guard,  who  had  been  gathering  information 
from  the  other  car  windows. 

"  I  shan't  refuse !  "  declared  the  lady,  as  if  accept- 
ing a  challenge.     "  Put  them  right  in  with  me." 

The  guard  accepted  the  bond  of  those  brown  eyes 
instinctively.  So  did  Bilge  and  Ma.  Vastly  hum- 
bled, they  entered  the  compartment  and  found 
themselves  waved  to  seats  opposite  a  slender  lady 
of  medium  height,  dressed  in  some  kind  of  simple 
brown  suit  that  matched  the  brown  of  her  hair  and 
the  brown,  too,  of  her  eyes,  if  anything  could  have 
matched  them,  which  of  course  was  not  possible. 
They  noted  that  the  brown  lady  had  red  lips,  perfect 
teeth,  a  rather  narrow  forehead  and  a  high  bridge 
to  her  aristocratic  nose.  She  suggested  a  combina- 
tion of  force  of  character  with  extreme  good  humor 
for,  with  the  boys  sitting  respectfully  opposite  her 
like  bad  children  overawed,  she  gazed  at  their 
embarrassment  for  a  moment  and  then  broke  into 
irrepressible  laughter.  She  laughed  so  hard  her 
eyes  were  closed  by  mirth. 

"  What  freakish  notions  do  pop  into  you  sailors' 
heads !  "  she  exclaimed  presently. 

"  We  weren't  drunk !  "  protested  Ma. 

"  Drunk  ?    Absurd !     Do  not  mention  the  word. 


252       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

Why,  of  course  not.  You  were  merely  full  of 
spirits." 

Ma  exchanged  a  quick  glance  with  Bilge.  Was 
she  spoofing  them  ? 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  remarked,  "  that  is  the  most 
amazing  thing  about  you  Americans.  An  idea  com- 
mends itself  to  you,  and  you  just  —  pop  off  and 
do  it.  That's  the  way  your  whole  American  nation 
is  going  into  this  war  —  head  over  heels.  It's  rather 
splendid !  When  you  hit  the  line  with  the  whole  of 
your  smashing  force  it  will  crumble  like  the  crust  of 
a  tart." 

"  It  shore  will!  "  declared  Ma  fervently.  "  When 
us  destroyers  —  we're  destroyer  men,  Mr.  Kennedy 
and  me.     I'm  Mr.  Ford  of  Texas." 

"  Charmed  to  meet  you,  I'm  sure,"  smiled  the 
lady. 

"  You  know  what  happened  to  the  submarines 
when  us  destroyers  struck  these  —  "  Ma  remem- 
bered, choked  a  boast  in  his  throat,  and  went  on 
with :  "  They're  held,  the  papers  say." 

"  Indeed  they  are,"  declared  the  charming  young 
woman,  whose  manner  was  perfectly  frank  and  cor- 
dial without  being  familiar  or  patronizing.  "  Tell 
me  what  amazing  eccentricity  —  " 

"  It's  just,  Ma'am,  that  we're  going  away  on 
London  leave,  and  we've  got  so  fed  up  that  when 
we  get  out  like  this,  our  own  boss,  for  seven  days, 
we're  just  like  to  bust !  " 

"  I  understand  it !  I  understand  it  perfectly," 
declared  the  young  woman  with  another  burst  of 
her  rippling  laughter.  "  But  you  must  be  careful 
in  London.  It  is  full  of  pitfalls  for  eager,  inex- 
perienced young  men  like  you." 


London  Leave  253 

Inexperienced !  Ma  liked  this  young  woman  im- 
mensely, but  he  could  barely  smother  his  scorn  and 
resentment  at  such  an  implication. 

"  You  had  best  report  to  one  of  the  Y-huts  the 
minute  you  reach  town." 

The  Y.  M.  C.  A.  hut !    There  it  was  again. 

"  Excuse  us,  Ma'am,"  interposed  Bilge,  "  but  we 
don't  intend  to  report  to  anybody.  We're  on  leave. 
What's  the  good  of  being  on  leave  if  we're  reporting 
every  five  minutes  ?  " 

"Oh,  we  rate  to  take  care  of  ourselves  all  right," 
insisted  Ma  obdurately,  although  with  the  utmost 
respectfulness  in  his  manner,  whereat  the  charming 
young  woman  merely  laughed  some  more  and  shook 
her  head. 

"  Have  it  your  way  then,"  she  agreed,  "  but  if 
you  get  in  trouble,  make  for  the  Y-hut  first  thing. 
Promise  me  that  now,  won't  you  ?  " 

"If  we  get  in  trouble,"  postulated  Ma,  and  was 
going  to  add,  "  yes  " ;  but  his  stubborn  pride  asserted 
itself.  "If  Bilge  and  me  gets  into  trouble  by  our- 
self,  we  generally  work  out  by  ourself,"  he  con- 
cluded with  a  disarming  smile. 

"  Pride !  Pride !  "  warned  the  lady  and  shook  a 
playful  finger.  "  Pride  has  many  a  fall  in  London 
these  days."  Thereafter  tactfully  she  dropped  the 
subject. 

It  can  be  a  very  pleasant  ride  to  Dublin  from,  let 
us  say  Mallow,  and  this  afternoon,  with  that  brown- 
eyed  lady  for  a  traveling  companion,  the  time  passed 
with  exceeding  swiftness. 

"Where  do  you  stop  in  London?"  she  inquired 
when,  at  Kingsbridge  Station,  Bilge  and  Ma  had 
handed  her,  her  maid  and  her  luggage  over  to  the 


254       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

mercies  of  a  porter,  for  it  appeared  that  she  was  to 
spend  the  night  in  the  Irish  capital. 

"  At  the  Piccadilly." 

"  The  Piccadilly !  "  exclaimed  the  lady  in  amaze- 
ment.    "  Why,  only  the  rich  can  stop  there." 

"  We're  rich  —  for  a  few  days,"  explained  Bilge. 

The  witching  brown  eyes  wore  a  puzzled  look 
for  a  moment,  and  it  was  plain  that  she  was  weigh- 
ing the  London  prospects  of  these  two  blithe  and 
self-satisfied  young  men  carefully  in  the  balances  of 
her  judgment;  but  presently  the  knit  brows  smoothed 
again. 

"  Oh,  you  Americans !  "  she  laughed  and  handed 
them  her  card.  "  I  shall  be  in  London  to-morrow," 
she  explained.  "  You  two  gentlemen  must  call  on 
me  on  Wednesday  at  five  for  tea." 

Rather  overwhelmed,  the  two  young  gentlemen 
blushed,  stammered,  nodded  agreement,  and  were 
left  standing  with  the  card.  The  address  upon  it 
was  a  street  in  Mayfair  which  meant  nothing  in 
particular  to  them.  What  had  staggered  them  was 
something  different.  "  Mary  Bracken,"  they  read, 
"  Countess  of  Bloomfield." 

"  Fan  me !  "  murmured  Ma. 

"  The  Countess  of  Bloomfield !  "  gurgled  Bilge. 

"  Will  we  go  ?  "  inquired  Ma. 

"We  will,"  decided  Bilge  emphatically.  "We 
will." 

In  the  early  dawn  of  the  next  morning  the  two 
sailors  arrived  at  their  journey's  end,  and,  clutching 
each  an  object  which  was  in  Americanese  a  grip  and 
in  Londonese  a  bag,  made  their  way  out  into  the 
mad  scramble  of  Euston  Station,  paused  on  the  curb 


London  Leave  255 

to  light  themselves  cigars,  engaged  the  attention  of 
a  taxicab  driver,  mentioned  the  name  of  the  Hotel 
Piccadilly  and,  behind  the  mask  of  considerable 
nervousness,  reclined  with  all  the  simulations  of 
luxurious  ease  until,  at  the  tomb-like  hour  of  seven 
o'clock,  their  vehicle  drew  up  before  the  famous 
caravanserie.  A  giant  figure  in  military  dress  coat 
of  blue,  with  large  sections  of  gold  braid  upon  the 
shoulders,  with  red  tabs  and  red  facings  and  a 
wealth  of  burnished  brass  in  the  way  of  buttons, 
approached  the  cab  door.  Bilge's  mask  of  ease  was 
punctured. 

"  Is  it  an  admiral?  "  he  gasped. 

"Naw!"  argued  Ma.  "Red's  an  army  color. 
Red  tabs  means  staff  officer." 

"  Yeh !  Staff  officer  of  the  hotel,"  opined  Bilge, 
recovering  swiftly  as  the  door  was  opened  and  a 
gilded  arm  reached  in  for  the  two  bags.  "  I've  met 
these  flunkies  before.  Remember  the  Lord  of  Lally- 
skallen  and  the  Earl  of  Skibberreen !  " 

"  I  remember  'em,"  recalled  Ma  with  a  wry  smile. 
"  Them  birds  sure  did  fool  us." 

"  But  we  pinned  it  on  'em  all  the  same.  We've 
got  to  do  the  same  with  London." 

"Yeh!  "agreed  Ma.    "Yeh!" 

They  were  registering  now,  and  then  they  were 
going  to  their  joint  room  where  they  performed  a 
very  elaborate  toilet,  although  under  the  circum- 
stances it  could  consist  of  no  more  than  a  thorough 
deep-sea  washing  of  their  sailor  heads  and  their 
sailor  hands  and  a  retying  of  their  sailor  necker- 
chiefs, after  which  they  filtered  down  to  breakfast, 
and  after  breakfast  debouched  upon  the  street  called 
Piccadilly. 


256       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

Now  probably  the  one  idea  most  successfully 
planted  beneath  the  veneer  of  careless  youth  by 
American  Navy  discipline  is  that  he  shall  appear 
clean  and  neat  at  all  times  when  ashore. 

"  Let's  go  and  get  a  shave !  "  proposed  Ma,  rub- 
bing his  jaw. 

"  I'll  say  we  will,"  responded  Bilge.    "  Where?  " 

"  I've  heard  tell  of  the  Savoy  barber  shop,"  re- 
membered Ma.  "  The  Savoy's  the  most  American 
hotel  in  London  and  somethin'  swell,  they  say." 

"  Us  for  it  and  that,"  declared  Bilge  whole- 
heartedly. 

They  inquired  their  way  from  Piccadilly  to  the 
Strand,  and  along  the  Strand  to  the  Savoy  and  its 
subterranean  barber  shop.  "  What'll  you  'ave, 
sir?  "  hinquired  the  Hamerican  Barber. 

"Everything!"  announced  Bilge  complaisantly 
and  luxuriantly  stretched  his  limbs. 

"  Same  perscription !  "  said  Ma,  as  he  sank  into 
the  next  chair. 

For  more  than  an  hour  these  youths,  as  hard  as 
monkey  wrenches,  who  for  a  year  on  shipboard  had 
been  handled  as  delicately  as  they  handle  pig  iron 
at  Bethlehem,  knew  what  it  was  to  be  bowed  over, 
fawned  over,  and  fussed  over,  shaved,  shampooed, 
massaged,  vibrated,  powdered,  perfumed !  —  all  but 
caressed.  When  the  succession  of  operations  had 
at  last  reached  an  end,  when  the  elaborations  and 
ramifications  of  the  art  tonsorial  could  do  no  more 
for  them,  the  change  from  the  pound  note  which 
each  handed  to  the  cashier  was  to  their  munificent 
eyes  so  small  that  they  could  do  no  less  than  throw 
it  about  in  a  barrage  of  extravagant  tips  to  barber, 
hatboy  and  manicure  girls;  after  which  they  issued 


London  Leave  257 

forth,  shinier,  cleaner-looking  than  before,  and 
gazed  about  them  with  an  air  of  superb  content. 

"  Let's  eat,  Bilge,"  proposed  Ma. 

"  It's  only  an  hour  or  so  since  breakfast,"  de- 
murred Bilge. 

"  But  that  breakfast  was  kind  of  skimpy." 

"  I'm  game !  "  agreed  Bilge,  and  they  made  their 
way  into  the  Savoy  restaurant  which,  at  that  hour, 
half-past  nine,  was  a  fairly  busy  place. 

Our  English  friends  never  get  through  marvelling 
at  the  spectacle  of  a  common  sailor  walking  into  a 
first-class  restaurant  and  deporting  himself  as  if  he 
were  accustomed  to  such  places ;  but  neither  do  they 
grow  weary  of  gazing  at  him  with  friendly,  admir- 
ing glances.  So  Bilge  and  Ma  encountered  a  fairly 
flattering  optical  reception,  besides  which,  and  what 
was  more  important  to  them,  an  obsequious  head 
waiter  with  sweeping  French  bows  and  an  allied 
accent,  conducted  them  to  a  table  in  a  corner. 

"  Look  at  that !  "  nudged  Bilge,  pointing  to  a  little 
brass  plate  on  the  wall  above  the  table,  which  read : 
"  Charles  Frohman's  Table/' 

"  He  went  down  on  the  Lusitania"  recalled  Ma. 

"  And  we  been  going  over  her  grave  about  two 
times  a  week  for  fifty-two  weeks,"  said  Bilge. 
"  They  won't  let  us  get  our  job  out  of  mind,  will 
they?" 

However,  at  Charles  Frohman's  table  the  ham  and 
the  eggs  tasted  just  as  good  as  in  the  Hotel  Picca- 
dilly. 

"  Where  for  lunch  ? "  inquired  Bilge,  as  they 
came  out. 

"  Jumpin'  Jehosaphat !  It's  not  lunch  time  yet?  " 
objected  Ma. 


258       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

"  It's  getting  along  toward  it,"  averred  Bilge, 
catching  sight  of  the  clock  on  Charing  Cross  Sta- 
tion. "  The  smell  of  all  that  chow  there  in  the 
Savoy  kind  of  give  me  back  my  appetite." 

"  Let's  git  lunch  at  Claridge's,"  suggested  Ma. 
"  Claridge's  is  more  English.  I  read  about  a  couple 
of  fellows  once  in  a  book  that  had  lunch  at 
Claridge's." 

"  Look !    There  comes  a  circus  parade." 

"  You  got  circus  on  the  brain,  man!  It's  just  a 
string  of  omnibuses." 

"  Gosh !  "  apologized  Bilge.  "  They're  all  dolled 
up  with  these  bright  red  and  green  signs  till  I 
thought  they  were  animal  cages.  Pipe  the  cute  little 
conductorettes.  Pipe  and  pile  on.  Let's  go  some- 
where." 

"  But  you  don't  know  where  they  go !  " 

"  It  don't  matter  where  we  go,  does  it,  as  long 
as  we  go  somewhere?  We've  got  the  time,  and 
we've  got  the  price." 

Bilge  flipped  the  footboard  and  pattered  up  the 
spiral  staircase  to  the  hurricane  deck,  Ma  following. 
They  rode  and  rode  and  rode,  losing  immediately  all 
track  of  where  they  were  in  the  maze  of  swaying, 
bending  and  broken  streets. 

"  London  ain't  a  city.  It's  a  sort  of  prairie-dog 
town,"  decided  Ma.  "  It's  just  a  crowd  of  buildings 
that  keep  milling  and  milling  round  you  till  they're 
plumb  stampeded  like  a  herd  of  cattle,  and  I  don't 
know  where  I'm  at  nor  nothin'." 

Bilge  was  studying  street  signs.  "  Well,  what 
do  you  think  of  that?"  he  demanded.  "Oxford 
Street  quit  like  a  dog,  and  High  Holborn  came 
rollin'  right  along  in  its  track.     Eastcheap!     New- 


London  Leave  259 

gate!  Threadneedle  Street  —  where  the  Bank  of 
England  is.  Why,  say,  I  keep  meeting  old  friends 
all  the  time." 

"  I  read  about  all  these  streets  myself  in  books, 
one  time  and  another,"  reminisced  Ma  content- 
edly. 

"  I  haven't  never  seen  you  read  a  book,"  recalled 
Bilge,  and  scanned  his  friend  with  bland,  cross- 
examining  eye. 

"  I  read  a  lot  of  'em  one  summer  when  I  was 
herding  sheep  up  in  New  Mexico  —  all  English: 
'  The  Hidden  Hand  ',  '  The  Street  of  Blood  ',  '  The 
Bridge  of  Sighs ',  *  Leave  Hope  Behind ',  '  Her 
Little  Heart '  —  all  good  books  too." 

"  Uh-huh,  they  sound  interesting,"  admitted 
Bilge,  with  just  a  shade  of  a  suspicion  of  lowering 
his  off  eyelid  derisively,  a  bit  of  facial  play  which, 
if  Ma  caught,  he  did  not  correctly  interpret. 

"  They  was  all  about  streets  like  this,"  burbled  the 
Texan.  "  And  the  Thames !  I  want  to  see  the 
Thames !  Say,  there's  a  sign  that  points  to  London 
Bridge  right  now.  I  don't  blame  the  limeys  for 
being  a  little  cocky  about  their  old  town,  honest,  I 
don't.  It  ain't  a  city,  really.  It  ain't  laid  out  half 
as  well  as  Waco,  and  it's  bigger,  though  Waco  is 
growin',  but  there  sure  is  one  crowd  of  people  here." 

"  What's  those  towers  there  ?  "  inquired  Bilge  of 
a  neighbor  in  front  of  him. 

"  The  Tower  of  London." 

"  Why,  sure;  I  forgot.  Ma,  the  Tower  of  Lon- 
don is  in  London,  ain't  it?  Why,  Ma,  we're  right 
here  at  the  beginnings  of  history,  you  might  say. 
Everything  I  ever  learned  in  English  history  hap- 
pened in  the  Tower  of  London,  or  else  at  York  or 


260       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

Hastings,  or  on  a  barge  coming  from  Blackf riars  to 
the  Tower.     Let's  get  off  and  see  the  Tower." 

Bilge's  excitement  was  considerable. 

Two  minutes  later  they  were  crossing  the  bridge 
over  the  vast  moat  and  being  awed  by  the  teeth  of 
the  portcullis,  for  many  a  century  poised  and  wait- 
ing to  keep  a  foe  without  or  hold  a  prisoner  within. 
The  boys  were  conducted  first  through  that  pile  of 
frowning  stone  called  the  bloody  tower,  shown  the 
room  in  which  the  small  princes  were  smothered, 
shown  the  chamber  where  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  had 
for  twelve  years  been  imprisoned,  and  they  gaped 
at  the  narrow  bit  of  wall  on  which  for  twelve  years 
he  took  his  daily  walks. 

"If  he  stood  it  twelve  years,  I  reckon  we  can  do 
another  six  months  on  a  destroyer,  if  the  war  lasts 
that  long,"  commented  Bilge. 

"  I  reckon,"  conceded  Bilge,  gazing  much  im- 
pressed at  the  window  through  which  a  certain 
Archbishop  was  said  to  have  bestowed  a  blessing 
upon  a  certain  nobleman  bound  for  the  block. 

They  moved  in  a  dream  out  of  the  bloody  tower 
and  round  and  up  into  the  great  white  tower  of 
William  the  Conqueror,  where  they  passed  from 
room  to  room  of  that  magnificent  collection  of  arms 
and  armor  which  is  housed  there.  Ma,  naturally, 
lingered  longest  before  the  horses  and  the  horse 
armor,  the  models  and  the  weapons  of  knightly 
offense  and  defense.  But  he  shuddered  before  a 
collection  of  bits. 

"  Man,  what's  the  sense  of  ruinin'  a  horse's  mouth 
that-a-way  ?  "  he  demanded.  "  Look's  like  a  horse'd 
wear  that  bit  once  and  commit  suicide." 

"  He  wouldn't  think  about  his  mouth  because  look 


London  Leave  261 

at  that  spur,"  and  Bilge  pointed  to  a  thing  like  a 
poniard,  four  inches  long,  and  made  to  wear  on  the 
heel  of  a  cavalier's  boot. 

"  Lead  me  away  from  it,"  demanded  Ma.  "  A 
horse  is  the  noblest  friend  of  man,  and  all  I  say 
about  these  people  that  went  to  the  block  from  this 
tower  is  if  they  all  rode  horses  with  this  kind  of 
gear  on  'em,  they  got  what  they  deserved." 

The  boys  were  halted  next  by  the  spectacle  of 
the  block  on  which  Lord  Lovat,  the  Scotchman,  went 
to  his  death,  and  by  the  story  of  how  his  own  cool 
demeanor  made  the  headsman  nervous  and  discon- 
certed him  into  bungling  his  job,  in  evidence  of 
which  were  pointed  out  to  them  the  three  cuts  upon 
the  block  instead  of  one  bold  gash  that  should  have 
been  there.  Along  with  this  gruesome  relic  were 
exhibited  to  them  the  instruments  of  torture,  the 
thumb-cracker,  the  back-breaker  and  the  model  of 
the  rack  upon  which  it  was  once  thought  necessary 
to  stretch  a  witness,  man  or  woman,  and  prepare 
them  for  testimony  by  slowly  disjointing  their  limbs, 
reviving  them  if  they  fainted  and  bringing  them  by 
successive  agonies  to  a  state  where  truth  must  tri- 
umph on  their  tongues. 

"  Sort  of  a  German  world,  back  in  them  times, 
what ! "  exclaimed  Ma.  "  It  makes  me  kind  of 
sick." 

"  Me,  too,"  conceded  Bilge. 

From  this  they  went  out  and  stood  upon  the  spot 
where  had  been  erected  the  block  on  which  Anne 
Boleyn,  Catherine  Howard,  and  others  of  the 
queens  and  the  pretended  queens  of  England  had 
died.  To  get  their  minds  properly  saturated  with 
this  gruesome  atmosphere  they  even  tipped  the  war- 


262       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

den  slightly  and  were  taken  into  the  little  chapel 
which  Macaulay  has  called  the  saddest  spot  in  all 
the  world,  and  there  viewed  the  moldering  slabs 
beneath  which  so  many  headless  queens  lie  buried. 
There  too  they  read  with  awe  upon  the  plate  of 
brass  that  list  of  thirty-four  names  of  those  who 
had  paid  the  penalty  of  hopes  or  aspirations  or 
courage  or  faith  or  weakness  or  crime  by  dying 
under  the  ax,  and  who,  because  their  blood  was 
noble  or  their  achievements  immortal,  had  their 
bodies  admitted  to  this  sacrosanct  spot. 

"  I'm  awful  glad  I  was  born  in  Texas,"  confessed 
Ma,  when  they  got  outside. 

"  Which  way  is  Claridge's  ?  "  demanded  Bilge. 
"  I've  got  an  awful  appetite." 

Claridge's  was  far  off,  but  a  taxicab  annihilated 
distance,  and  the  two  were  soon  in  its  spacious  dining 
room.  The  general  color  effect  was  one  of  whites 
and  reds.  The  hangings  and  the  carpets  were  red. 
The  napery  was  white,  stiff  and  abundant,  while  the 
crystal  and  the  silver  sparkled  obtrusively.  The 
attendants  moved  noiselessly,  bowed  respectfully, 
and  served  expertly. 

"  Isn't  it  different?  "  inquired  Bilge. 

"  Different  from  what?  " 

"  Mess  time  in  that  old  bundle  of  junk,  the  U.  S. 
Destroyer  Judson." 

"  It  sure  is,"  admitted  Ma.  "  Supposing  the 
gang  was  to  see  us  now.  Suppose  Captain  Brad- 
shaw  came  in  and  found  us  here.  Jumping  Jehosa- 
phat  —     Look !  " 

A  very  tall  man,  straight  as  an  arrow,  in  the  uni- 
form of  an  admiral  of  the  United  States  Navy,  in 
the  company  of  his  aide  and  two  British  officers, 


London  Leave  263 

with  the  headwaiter  moving  grandly  on  before,  was 
being  conducted  to  a  table  beyond  them.  The  ad- 
miral's beard  was  sparse  and  grizzled;  his  eyes  were 
dark  and  carried  a  twinkle  in  them. 

"  Sims !  "  the  two  boys  whispered  in  a  single 
breath  and  instinctively  pushed  back  their  chairs  and 
stood  at  attention. 

The  admiral's  keen  eye  picked  them  up  instantly. 
He  noted  their  well-set-up  figures;  his  approving 
glance  took  in  the  neatness  of  their  appearance  and 
that  fine  strain  of  discipline  which  had  brought  them 
instantly  to  attention  as  he  drew  near.  Turning 
from  his  party  he  came  directly  to  them,  spoke  to 
them  cordially,  inquired  their  names,  their  ship, 
how  long  they  had  been  in  London,  whether  they 
were  having  a  good  time,  and  if  they  wanted  any- 
thing. Then  with  a  smile  of  hearty  good-will  he 
turned  to  his  own  table. 

"  Can  you  see  a  limey  admiral  doing  that?  "  in- 
quired Bilge,  sinking  into  his  seat  with  a  flutter. 

"  Easy  as  I  can  see  two  limey  jacks  lunching  at 
Claridge's,"  chuckled  Ma. 

"  Ours  is  the  greatest  navy  in  the  world,  what !  " 
inquired  the  auburn-locked  machinist's  mate  with  a 
slight  gulp  in  his  throat. 

"  It  shore  is,"  agreed  the  boson's  mate  with 
emphasis. 

Luncheon  disposed  of,  the  two  devoted  themselves 
again  and  assiduously  to  sight-seeing.  They  pa- 
raded with  the  throngs  upon  the  Strand.  They 
gazed  in  the  shop  windows  of  Regent  Street.  They 
trailed  through  the  Mall  to  Bird  Cage  Walk  and 
marvelled  at  the  synchronized  activities  of  the  men 
on   sentry-go   before    Buckingham    Palace,  —  men 


264       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

who  trailed  their  rifles  or  ported  or  shouldered 
them,  or  strode  their  prescribed  number  of  paces, 
clicked  heels,  about-faced  and  marched  them  back 
again,  all  in  fairly  exact  unison,  though  widely  sep- 
arated from  each  other's  sight  by  that  lofty  iron 
fence  which  encloses  the  huge,  rectangular  palace 
grounds. 

They  wandered  through  Whitehall,  gazed  at  the 
grimy  old  ministry  buildings,  and  stood  transfixed  by 
the  gorgeous  spectacle  of  the  famous  Horse  Guards, 
mounted  and  standing  in  platoon  in  the  yard,  in  all 
the  brilliant  scarlet  and  tinsel  of  their  uniforms,  the 
pride  of  their  nodding  plumes,  the  richness  of  their 
equestrian  trappings,  and  the  rotund  and  sleekly 
groomed  beauty  of  their  imposing  black  horses. 

"  Not  that  those  guys  are  licking  any  Germans, 
sitting  there  and  being  gawped  at!  "  criticised  Bilge 
tersely. 

"  Naw !  I  don't  exactly  get  'em,"  confessed  Ma, 
whereat  a  new  voice  was  heard  between  the  shoul- 
ders of  the  two  friends,  a  voice  bubbling  with  the 
earnest  desire  to  impart  useful  information. 

"  Not  having  any  president  like  us,  only  a  sort  of 
prime  minister  that  they  wish  on  themselves  at  irreg- 
ular intervals,  the  British  have  got  to  have  a  king 
and  a  palace  and  a  tower  and  Horse  Guards  and  a 
crown  and  all  that  to  kind  of  satisfy  the  eye.  It's 
the  outward  and  visible  sign  of  the  mysterious  unity 
of  the  British  nation." 

Bilge  and  Ma  turned  and  gazed.  These  words  of 
wisdom  and  profundity  had  flowed  from  the  lips  of 
a  man  beside  them  who  was  in  the  uniform  of  their 
own  navy,  an  unrated  man  with  the  red  stripe  of 
the  engine  room  about  his  left  shoulder. 


London  Leave  265 

"  It's  a  good  line,  kid,"  observed  Ma  patroniz- 
ingly. "  It's  a  good  line  of  conversation,  but  where 
do  you-all  get  it  ?  " 

The  sailor-man  flushed.  "  I  used  to  be  a  princi- 
pal of  a  high  school  before  I  enlisted,"  he  explained, 
almost  as  if  it  were  a  thing  to  be  ashamed  of. 

"  And  you  enlisted  in  the  black-gang,"  commented 
Bilge.  "  Well,  good  for  you,  bo.  How  long've 
you  been  in  ?  " 

"  Eleven  months." 

"How  old?" 

"  Twenty-six." 

"  You  don't  look  it.  String  along,  kid.  We're 
just  knocking  around." 

11 1  reckon,"  philosophized  Ma,  "  there's  brains 
enough  just  in  the  enlisted  men  of  our  navy  to  make 
a  government  out  of." 

"Yeh!"  opined  Bilge  dryly.  "I  could  be  the 
President  and  you  could  be  the  Vice." 

"  You're  the  biggest  vice  I  got,"  retorted  Ma. 
"  Besides,  all  I  want  is  just  to  be  Secretary  of  the 
Navy  for  one  term.     Just  one  term !  " 

"  What  for,  Ma?  "  kidded  Bilge. 

"  I  got  my  reasons,"  affirmed  Ma  and  fell  on 
moody  silence,  whereat  Bilge  laughed  inwardly,  for 
he  knew  that  his  shipmate  meditated  some  profound 
revenge  that  he  could  never  hope  to  get. 

"  Thanks !  I  can't  string  along  now,"  said  the 
schoolmaster.  "  IVe  got  a  date  over  at  the  Eagle 
Hut." 

"Eagle  Hut?    What's  that?" 

"  It's  the  greatest  Y-hut  in  the  world.  Good  eats, 
good  sleeps,  good  music,  place  to  write  letters;  fel- 
lows from  all  the  fronts  to  chin  with,  buzz,  buzz, 


266        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

buzz,  lots  of  women  there  waiting  on  you  —  real 
women,  you  know  —  ladies,  countesses,  duchesses, 
all  that  sort  of  thing." 

The  Y.  M.  C.  A.  again.  Bilge  and  Ma  smiled 
their  sweet,  superior  smile. 

"  That's  all  right,  I  reckon,  for  men  that  don't 
know  how  to  take  care  of  theirselves,"  patronized 
Ma,  "  but  as  for  me  and  Bilge,  we-all  are  stopping 
at  the  Piccadilly." 

"  The  Piccadilly !    That  takes  a  lot  of  money." 

"  We  got  a  lot  of  money,"  admitted  Bilge  and 
Ma,  not  too  modestly. 

"  Well,  so  long  then,"  replied  the  schoolmaster. 
"  Come  round  to  the  hut  if  you  get  in  any  sort  of 
trouble." 

"  Trouble,  huh !  "  laughed  Bilge  and  Ma.  They 
had  been  in  London  ten  hours  already  and  had  not 
seen  the  sign  of  trouble.  The  notion  that  the  town 
was  full  of  pitfalls  for  self-reliant  young  men  who 
knew  how  to  take  care  of  themselves  was  absurd. 
Jauntily  they  waved  the  schoolmaster  adieu  and 
gave  themselves  once  more  up  to  the  intoxicating 
whirl  of  the  greatest  city's  crowds. 

They  saw  many  sights.  They  heard  many  sounds. 
Most  moving  experience  of  all,  they  stood  at  Charing 
Cross  Station  and  saw  the  wounded  coming  in, 
pale,  drawn  faces,  bandaged,  broken  frames  of  men, 
with  the  mud  of  Flanders  still  upon  their  clothes, 
with  the  smell  of  blood  about  them,  and  the  very 
glint  of  battle  yet  in  their  eyes. 

It  seemed  quite  scandalous  that  this  appeal  to 
their  emotions  should  have  made  them  hungry,  but 
they  fancied  that  it  did,  and  though  the  hour  was 
early,  went  off  to  Gatti's  to  dine. 


London  Leave  267 

"  We've  eaten  up  half  our  meat  coupons  the  first 
day,"  discovered  Bilge  in  some  alarm. 

"  Anyway,"  remarked  Ma,  stroking  his  waist  line 
complaisantly,  "  it's  the  first  time  I've  had  what 
you  might  call  a  real  'nough  to  eat  since  I  filled  me 
up  on  calf  tee-bones  down  at  Uncle  John  Mean's 
Y-Six  ranch  in  Texas." 

"  The  first  for  me,"  confessed  Bilge,  "  since  the 
last  big  feed  mother  give  me  in  Brooklyn.  Not  that 
the  Navy  don't  feed  all  right,  you  understand." 

"  Oh,  it  feeds  all  right,"  agreed  Ma,  "  but  the 
Navy  is  running  a  war,  not  a  restaurant.  It  feeds 
you  something  to  fight  on.  Our  mothers  used  to 
feed  us  something  to  eat  on." 

"  Anyway,  I've  had  enough,"  admitted  Bilge. 
"  I  don't  never  want  to  look  food  in  the  face  again 
till  to-morrow  morning." 

Thereafter  they  rose  and  took  themselves  to  the 
theater,  their  first  real  theater  since  Cork  was  placed 
out  of  bounds,  and  they  laughed  till  the  tears  ran 
down  their  cheeks  over  the  antics  of  "  The  Bing 
Boys  on  Broadway." 

"  Old  Broadway ! "  sighed  Bilge,  when  they 
emerged. 

"  01'  Broadway !  "  agreed  Ma,  with  a  sadly  rem- 
iniscent note  in  his  voice,  as  together  they  groped 
their  way  back  to  the  Piccadilly  through  that  dank 
darkness  which,  since  the  days  of  the  air-raids,  turns 
the  night  streets  of  London  into  abysmal  vaults  with 
the  tiny  red  lamps  of  sputtering  taxicabs  glistening 
like  animal  eyes  in  subterranean  chambers,  through 
a  gloom  that  at  no  time  appears  so  impenetrable  and 
hopeless  as  in  the  fifteen  minutes  when  the  theaters 
are  discharging  their  early-gathered  throngs. 


268       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

Thus  the  morning  and  the  evening  were  the  first 
day  of  the  sojourn  of  Bilge  and  Ma  in  London,  and 
the  morning  and  the  evening  of  the  next  day  were 
like  unto  it,  until  somewhere  round  five  o'clock  of 
this  second  afternoon,  when  Ma  hove  to  on  a  corner 
of  Trafalgar  Square,  footsore  and  weary,  and  upon 
his  simple  face  the  air  of  having  made  a  startling 
discovery.     He  was  lonely. 

"  I  never  saw  so  many  f  riendly-lookin'  people,  and 
I  never  felt  so  lonesome  in  all  my  life  before,"  he 
murmured  to  himself  as,  shifting  drearily  to  the 
other  leg,  he  gazed  disconsolate  into  the  throng. 

"Lonesome  'ole,  'in't  it?"  piped  a  voice  in  the 
Texan's  surprised  ear,  and  Ma  found  himself  gazing 
into  a  pair  of  pale-blue  eyes,  framed  in  an  anemic 
face,  the  natural  complexion  of  which  had  been 
heightened  with  the  assistance  of  the  rouge  pot. 
Her  lips,  however,  appeared  naturally  red  to  Ma's 
untutored  judgment,  and  they  parted  over  slightly 
irregular  teeth  in  a  smile  that  was  half  cheerful  and 
half  woebegone.  There  was  an  insinuating  quality 
in  the  voice  and  an  appealing  wistfulness  about  the 
pretty  mouth  with  the  unbeautiful  teeth. 

"  I'm  just  mopin'  around  myself,  kid,  so  lonesome 
I  could  cry  me  bloomin'  heyes  out,"  said  the  girl, 
snuggling  rather  close  in  that  intimacy  which  a 
crowd  forces  upon  individuals.  "  Me  father  doid 
in  France,"  she  added  sadly,  by  way  of  explanation 
of  her  own  disconsolate  state.  "  We've  got  to  carry 
on  though,  'aven't  we?  "  And  she  bravely  wiped  a 
tear. 

"  Poor  little  kiddo !  "  sympathized  Ma,  for  though 
the  face  somehow  did  not  look  young,  he  argued 
from  the  shortness  of  her  skirts  and  the  fox-tail  of 


London  Leave  269 

wavy  blond  hair  falling  a  little  way  between  the 
shoulders,  that  she  was  only  a  child. 

"  Y'were  lonesome,  weren't  y',  pal  ? "  she  de- 
manded impulsively. 

"  I  was  kind  of  thinking  of  home  and  sister," 
admitted  Ma,  and  so  the  conversation  began.  It 
had  been  going  on  some  time  when  Bilge,  who  had 
fared  on  down  the  street,  came  coursing  back  in 
search  of  his  friend. 

"  Hello ! "  Bilge  exclaimed  a  trifle  rudely. 
"  Where's  she  come  from?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  laughed  Ma  quite  happily.  "  All 
at  once  she  was  here.  Mighty  nice  little  thing! 
Cheerful.     All  kinds  of  trouble  too." 

The  girl,  at  the  approach  of  Bilge,  had  drawn 
back  a  trifle  shyly,  leaving  the  two  friends  together 
and  alone  for  a  moment. 

"  Her  father's  dead  in  France,"  Ma  explained  — 
"  mother  works  in  a  munitions  factory ;  one  brother 
just  took  by  the  draft  and  one  just  turned  out  of 
the  army  useless  with  varicose  veins  from  too  much 
pullin'  guns  through  mud." 

"  Quite  a  family  history  you  been  gatherin'," 
commented  Bilge,  a  trifle  cynically. 

"  Kind  of  hard  up,  I  guess,"  went  on  Ma,  as  if 
paving  the  way  for  something. 

"  Why  don't  she  go  to  work  in  munitions  herself, 
instead  of  parading  the  streets  ? "  inquired  Bilge 
suspiciously. 

"  She's  too  young.  They  don't  take  'em  till 
they're  full  sixteen." 

"  Full  sixteen !    That  girl's  twenty  if  she's  a  day." 

"  Why,  no,  she's  not,"  declared  Ma  in  disgust  at 
such  hard-hearted  stupidity.     "  Look  at  her  hair. 


270       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

It's  still  kind  of  flaxy  yet.  It'll  be  brown  when 
she's  grown  up." 

"  Flaxy !  It's  bleached.  Don't  you  see  it's  dark 
around  the  roots." 

"  It's  turning  dark,"  argued  Ma.  "  Besides,  look 
at  her  skirts." 

"  Look  at  her  legs,  I  say,"  persisted  Bilge.  "  You 
can't  tell  nothing  about  how  old  a  woman  is  by  the 
length  of  her  skirts  these  days,  whether  she's  nine 
or  nineteen  or  ninety.  Look  at  this  girl's  calves. 
They're  not  the  swellin'  calves  of  budding  youth. 
They're  got  muscles  in  'em.  The  girl's  an  acrobat 
or  a  dancer  or  something  like  that.  How  much  did 
you  give  her  ?  "  he  demanded  abruptly,  as  unmask- 
ing Ma's  guilty  secret. 

"  A  couple  of  pounds,"  answered  Ma  defiantly. 

"  Of  your  money  ?  " 

"  Of  our  money." 

"  Say !  You  hand  over  my  share  of  the  roll  right 
now,"  directed  Bilge.  "  When  you  begin  to  pass 
good  money  over  to  Janes  with  silk  —  " 

"  They're  not  silk !  "  declared  Ma,  rather  taken 
aback.     "  They  just  —  " 

But  the  little  woman  had  apparently  made  up  her 
mind  that  the  colloquy  between  friends  had  gone 
on  long  enough  with  her  left  out  of  it,  or  that  it  was 
not  going  on  right.  Anyway,  she  turned  from  ap- 
parent gazing  up  the  street  and  advanced  with  simple 
frankness. 

"  And  this  is  your  friend,  Mr.  Kennedy,  that  you 
was  tellin'  me  about.  'E  seems  a  nice  young  man, 
don't  'e?"  she  remarked  and  cooed  engagingly. 

It  is  perhaps  hardly  necessary  to  record,  consid- 
ering the  susceptibility  to  female  blandishment  of 


London  Leave  271 

Bilge,  that  when  the  little  lady  had  turned  the  full 
barrage  of  her  blue  eyes  and  smiling  lips  on  the  tall 
machinist's  mate  and  added  to  this  the  pressure  of 
her  small  hand  appealing  upon  his  arm,  his  hard 
heart  softened  instantly.  He  smiled  and  admitted 
that  he  was  Mr.  Kennedy  of  the  United  States  Navy. 

"  Me  name  is  'Ortense,"  she  explained  modestly. 
"  Meet  me  friend,  won't  you,  Mr.  Kennedy,"  and 
from  nowhere  at  all  appeared  suddenly  beside  them 
a  brunette  edition  of  Hortense  who  was  introduced 
as  Kytie. 

Katie's  dark  eyes  were  attractive,  her  mouth  was 
pretty  but  small,  and  the  lower  lip  sagged  weakly. 
Yet  her  smile  was  cordial,  and  instantly  appropriat- 
ing Bilge  as  her  allotment  she  began  to  chatter  enter- 
tainingly in  a  cockney  dialect  that  was  new  to  him 
on  the  lips  of  a  girl,  and  sprinkled  through  with 
compliments  for  his  appearance  and  for  his  navy. 
The  spell  thus  cast  was  not  so  powerful,  however, 
that  Bilge  did  not  recall  what  it  was  that  had 
brought  him  back  scouting  along  the  Strand  for  his 
foot-weary  friend. 

"  Here,  Ma !  "  he  said,  "  I  been  scraping  acquaint- 
ance with  a  discharged  Tommy.  Most  interesting 
line  of  dope  on  the  front  that  you  ever  heard.  He's 
selling  papers  right  over  here  at  Charing  Cross. 
Come  across."  They  went,  the  girls  tagging  along, 
assuming,  not  greatly  to  Bilge's  surprise  though 
somewhat  to  his  embarrassment,  that  they  now  be- 
longed to  the  party. 

Bilge's  discharged  Tommy  proved  a  hearty-look- 
ing soul,  florid  of  face  and  full  of  figure,  wearing  a 
discharge  badge  right  enough  and  explaining  that 
shrapnel  in  the  legs  had  put  him  out  of  the  fighting, 


272       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

although  his  legs  appeared  now  to  serve  him  quite 
as  the  legs  of  other  people.  He  welcomed  Ma  with 
enthusiasm,  took  the  tagging  female  kittens  as  a 
matter  of  course,  and  proceeded  to  do  his  utmost  to 
extend  the  same  true  welcome  of  a  British  soldier  to 
Ma  that  he  had  previously  tendered  to  Bilge;  and 
all  the  while  selling  his  papers  industriously. 

He  was  eager  to  know  about  the  American  Navy, 
and  the  boys  answered  his  questions  at  length  but 
discreetly.  He  played  subtly  upon  their  vanities 
and  reciprocated  volubly  with  stories  of  the  fighting 
front  in  France;  for  it  is  rather  characteristic  of 
our  jack-tar,  with  his  fondness  for  a  scrap,  that  he 
sighs  for  a  close-up  of  the  battle  line  in  France. 

The  eloquent  and  stalwart  newsboy,  who  might 
have  been  twenty-five  years  of  age  and  weighed 
around  two  hundred  pounds,  had  many  stories  to 
tell.  His  climax,  modestly  and  embarrassingly 
reached,  was  the  tale  of  how  he  had  himself  cap- 
tured a  German  machine  gun  from  an  advance  post 
and  carried  it  off  bodily,  leaving  the  gun  crew  hors 
du  combat  behind  him. 

"  Since  that  they  calls  me  the  'Ooker  in  our  Bat- 
talion, and  'Ooker,  'Ooker  Bill,  everybody  calls  me 
till  the  rest  of  me  name  is  in  the  limbo." 

"  Kennedy  and  Ford's  our  names,"  said  Ma,  prof- 
fering his  hand  and  thereby  approving  the  person 
and  the  friendship  of  Mr.  Hooker  Bill. 

"  I  s'y,"  exclaimed  Hooker  Bill,  and  an  idea 
seemed  to  strike  him  with  solid  force.  "  Will  y' 
tyke  a  little  walk  round  to  my  'ouse  and  'ave  a  cup 
o'  tea  with  me  —  brewed  by  a  'and  that's  made 
many  a  cup  in  the  trenches  with  the  shells  whistlin' 
over'ead  ?  " 


London  Leave  273 

"  I  allow,  Mr.  Hooker  Bill,"  and  Ma  began  to 
frame  a  demurrer.  But  Hooker  Bill  would  not  list 
to  demurrers.  He  was  a  whole-hearted,  persuasive, 
pervasive  sort  of  person. 

"  Hours  is  but  a  'umble  British  'ome,"  he  went 
on  volubly  and  politely,  insinuatingly  politely,  "  but 
the  'ospitality  of  it  is  welcome  to  our  fighting  Yankee 
cousins.  Will  you  do  that  much  to  cement  a  new 
acquaintance?     It's  only  a  step." 

Hooker  Bill's  bullet  head  was  thrust  forward,  and 
there  was  a  kind  of  uncouth  sincerity  in  the  expres- 
sion of  his  red  face  and  the  appeal  of  his  watery 
blue  eyes.  To  refuse  an  invitation  so  kindly  and 
generously  meant  would  have  argued  a  callousness 
of  which  neither  Bilge  nor  Ma  in  their  present  state 
were  capable. 

"  I  reckon  we-all  could  come,"  decided  Ma. 

"  We'd  be  glad  to,  in  fact,"  averred  Bilge. 

The  ladies,  to  whom,  by  the  way,  the  Hooker  had 
been  duly  presented,  though  it  is  possible  they  did 
not  meet  quite  as  strangers,  also  assumed  that  they 
had  been  invited  and  assured  the  hospitably  minded 
newsdealer  that  they  would  also  be  pleased  to  drink 
his  tea. 

"  When  mother  comes  'ome  from  work  in  Wool- 
wich, next  week-end,"  gulped  the  Hooker  happily, 
"  and  'ears  that  we've  entertained  two  Yankee  sail- 
ors for  tea  in  our  humble  'ome,  she'll  be  prouder 
nor  the  queen." 

And  all  the  while  he  was  leading  them  across  the 
Strand,  crying  his  papers  as  he  walked  and  thriftily 
selling  the  last  of  them  while  Bilge  and  Ma,  Hor- 
tense  and  Katie,  were  still  being  piloted  through 
what  was  to  the  sailors  a  bewildering  maze  of  streets 


274       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

that  grew  meaner  or  more  cluttered  with  hucksters' 
wagons  and  wholesalers'  trucks  until,  without  by  any 
means  realizing  where  they  were  or  how  they  had 
come  to  reach  the  dark  passage  in  which  they  stood, 
they  were  at  the  front  of  the  door  of  the  Hooker's 
lodgings,  with  the  Hooker  himself  fumbling  for  his 
key,  and  with  the  two  girls  clinging  fast  and  con- 
fidingly, Hortense  to  the  arm  of  Ma  and  Katie  to 
the  sinewy  hand  of  Bilge. 

"  This  is  democracy,  all  right,"  whispered  the 
machinist's  mate  to  the  boson's.  "  To-morrow  this 
time  we  will  be  taking  tea  with  a  countess." 

"  Yep,"  recalled  Ma,  though  not  exactly  pleased 
to  be  drawn  even  for  a  moment  from  gazing  into 
the  blue,  entrancing  eyes  of  Hortense. 

Bilge,  however,  as  they  entered  a  stuffy  com- 
bination of  parlor  and  dining  room,  had  his  atten- 
tion drawn  again  in  some  unaccountable  way  to  the 
fact  that  the  girls  were  both  wearing  silk  stockings 
and  rather  dainty  footwear  and  a  question  thrust 
itself  into  his  mind.  His  face,  his  eyes,  something 
about  his  manner  must  have  suggested  the  nature  of 
his  thoughts,  for  the  Hooker,  quick  as  a  flash  to 
note  every  passing  mood  of  his  guests,  laughed  and 
pointed  to  the  girls. 

"  Hit's  the  munition  worker's  money,"  he  chor- 
tled. "  Hevery  factory  girl  in  Hengland  dresses 
loike  a  lady  now.  Ye  could  'ardly  tell  'em  from  a 
duchess." 

At  this  Katie  laughed  merrily  and  flipped  about 
on  one  heel  with  a  movement  that  to  Bilge  was 
somehow  reminiscent  of  musical  comedy;  but  he 
liked  Katie  all  the  better  for  a  bit  of  style.  He 
liked  her  better  yet  when  she  took  his  hand  and 


London  Leave  275 

held  it  comfortably  while  she  sat  beside  him.  This 
was,  by  American  standards,  a  considerable  degree 
of  freedom  upon  short  acquaintance,  but  Bilge  knew 
that  the  European  way  was  different,  —  for  had  he 
not  seen  it,  as  he  walked  the  streets  of  London? 
Anyway,  it  was  the  more  welcome  because  of  the 
mighty  loneliness  which  had  begun  to  possess  his 
soul  as  it  had  already  possessed  the  soul  of  Ma. 

"  'Ere's  the  bloomin'  tea !  "  announced  the  Hooker 
merrily,  after  a  surprisingly  short  interval,  and 
came  proudly  forth  from  a  sort  of  kitchenette  bear- 
ing a  battered  brass  tray  on  which  were  cakes,  a 
jar  of  the  inevitable  jam,  some  thinly  greased  slices 
of  bread  and  two  cups  of  tea.  These  he  carefully 
and  ostentatiously  bestowed  upon  the  sailors.  Im- 
mediately they  proffered  them  to  the  girls. 

"  No-o-o,  y'don't,"  commanded  their  host  with 
canny  sharpness.  "  International  guests  first  in  this 
,ouse.,, 

"  Ladies  first  in  our  country,"  responded  Ma  gal- 
lantly, still  proffering  his  tea  to  the  blue  eyes. 

"  Besides,  Hi  gives  these  chits  of  girls  tea  out  of 
a  different  pot,"  explained  the  Hooker,  with  an 
indulgent  smile.  "  They  can't  drink  fightin'  man's 
drink  like  you  and  me."  And  from  the  kitchenette 
he  brought  forth  two  other  cups  of  tea  for  the  girls, 
and  sat  down  to  a  third  for  himself. 

"  Heat  'earty,"  the  Hooker  insisted,  his  own 
mouth  full  of  bread  and  jam.  "  Food  ain't  so 
plenty  like  what  it  was  in  London  before  these  'Uns 
of  the  sea  got  to  nippin'  round  quite  so  lively,  but  it 
would  be  less  nor  what  it  is,  if  it  weren't  for  you 
bloomin'  Yanks,  God  bless  ye !  " 

Lifting  his  cup  of  tea,  Hooker  Bill  drank  deep 


276       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

and  long  to  the  Yankees,  as  attested  by  his  eyes  upon 
them  over  the  rim  of  his  cup.  They  too  drank  deep 
and  long. 

"  Some  people  likes  their  grog/'  rumbled  on  their 
host,  his  voice  throaty  and  bready,  "  but  I  see  you 
boys  wasn't  that  kind.  The  day  of  alcohol  is  done 
in  Hameriky,  I  tells  people,  and  I  never  hoffers  it 
first  off  to  sailors." 

Bilge  and  Ma  looked  their  appreciation  of  this 
compliment  as  witnessing  still  further  to  the  simple- 
heartedness  of  their  host. 

"  I'll  take  some  more  hot  water  in  my  cup,"  sug- 
gested Bilge,  manipulating  his  tongue  reflectively. 
"  You  English  make  your  tea  stronger  than  they  do 
in  Ireland." 

"  It's  my  hown  way,"  laughed  the  Hooker,  oozing 
good  fellowship.  "  Yes,  tyke  some  more  *ot  water 
and  some  more  milk  and  sugar  too,  and  wash  the 
drink  down  clean  like." 

"  It  shore  is  strong,"  admitted  Ma,  making  a  wry 
face  which,  however,  was  not  necessarily  significant, 
since,  being  a  Texan,  he  regarded  coffee  as  the  only 
non-intoxicating  beverage  truly  worthy  of  human 
consumption,  and  therefore  viewed  tea  with  sus- 
picion and  dislike.  However,  he  too  yielded  to  the 
importunings  of  his  host  and  the  dictates  of  courtesy 
and  permitted  his  cup  to  be  filled  again  from  the 
international  guests'  special  brew,  and  eventually  he 
drank  it.  It  was  while  drinking  this  second  cup 
that  Ma  detected  a  certain  drowsiness  stealing  over 
him. 

"What  —  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Hortense; 
what  was  that  you  was  say  in'  ?  "  and  he  struggled 
to  get  into  his  mind  through  a  mist  of  fog  that 


London  Leave  277 

seemed  suddenly  rising  round  him  the  meaning  of 
the  last  words  she  had  spoken. 

"  You  said  you  would  tyke  us  to  the  the-eyeter," 
the  blue-eyed  one  repeated. 

"Theater?  Oh,  yes,  yes,  Miss  —  Miss,"  an- 
swered Ma  thickly.  "  But  you'll  just  naturally  have 
to  let  me  lay  down  an'  git  a  little  sleep  first,"  he 
explained  rather  surprisingly.  "  I  sure  got  to  pil- 
low my  ol*  head  on  something  and  pillow  it  good 
and  quick." 

The  nearest  thing  that  in  anywise  resembled  a 
pillow,  and  that  not  very  completely,  was  the  demure 
shoulder  of  the  supposedly  tender,  young  Miss  Hor- 
tense,  and  upon  that  shoulder  Ma's  head  sank  down 
after  a  wobble  or  two  and  without  another  word. 

'Ortense  looked  across  at  Bilge  and  smiled. 

"  We're  powerful  sleepy,  Miss  Hortense,  both  of 
us,  we  are  for  a  fact,"  averred  Bilge,  yawning  heav- 
ily and  himself  too  overcome  with  sudden  drowsi- 
ness to  be  shocked  by  the  uncouthness  of  Ma's 
behavior.  "  We  must  'a'  stayed  up  nearly  all  night 
last  night  to  get  so  sleepy  as  what  we  are." 

And  Bilge,  forgetting  Katie  by  his  side  and  her 
dark  curling  ringlets  with  which  he  had  been  boldly 
toying  while  she  drank  her  tea,  disengaged  the  hand 
which  had  wandered  affectionately  about  her  neck, 
crossed  his  arms  upon  the  table,  lowered  his  face 
upon  his  hands  and,  his  long,  lurid  pompadour  all 
but  steeping  in  the  dregs  of  his  tea,  he  too  slept  the 
sleep  of  utter  forgetfulness. 

"  Miss  —  Miss  Hortense !  "  murmured  Ma,  wak- 
ing painfully,  stretching  his  arms,  rubbing  his  thick- 
lidded  eyes  which  he  had  almost  to  pry  apart,  and 


278       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

then  staring  about  him  at  unfamiliar  surroundings 
which  he  presently  identified  as  a  gloomy  and  ap- 
parently seldom  used  passageway  leading  to  a  court 
somewhere  beyond  from  which  emanated  a  variety 
of  noisome  odors.  The  bed  on  which  his  slumbers 
had  been  concluded  he  also  recognized  as  the 
roughly  joined  paving  stones  which  floored  the  pas- 
sageway into  the  roof  of  which  his  eyes  were 
staring. 

"Bilge!"  he  called.  "  Bilge!"  At  first  there 
was  no  answer,  and  then  a  sleepy  grunt  issued  from 
somewhere  behind.  Ma  sat  contemplating  the  gloom 
and  eventually  his  eyes  made  out  the  prostrate  figure 
of  his  comrade,  plastered  close  against  the  wall  to 
be  out  of  the  way  of  passing  footsteps,  just  as  Ma's 
had  evidently  been  until  he  turned  over  and  sat  up 
in  the  center  of  the  corridor  and  began  stupidly  to 
recollect  himself. 

Ma's  tongue  was  thick  and  furred.  "  Spittin' 
cotton !  "  he  remarked,  observing  his  symptoms.  A 
pain  throbbed  in  his  temples,  and  his  eyes  did  not 
focus  readily. 

"That  tea!  I'm  off  of  tea  for  the  rest  of  my 
life,"  he  reproached,  and  then,  as  his  thinking  proc- 
esses geared  up  a  few  more  cells  of  his  brain,  a  new 
idea  struck  him  with  great  violence. 

"Doped!"  he  exclaimed  abruptly.  "Doped!" 
And  instantly  his  hand  went  to  his  breast.  Feel- 
ing there  no  comfortable  bulkiness  where  the  com- 
munal wallet  had  reposed,  his  hand  tremblingly 
groped  its  way  inside  and  made  sure  the  pocket  was 
empty,  absolutely  empty. 

"  Robbed ! "  he  muttered  disconsolately. 
k<  Robbed !    Didn't  even  leave  me  the  makin's." 


London  Leave  279 

But  when  he  tried  to  piece  out  the  final  move- 
ments in  the  last  bit  of  action  his  memory  recalled, 
the  result  was  patchwork  with  yawning  gaps  in  the 
film  of  action.  Perhaps  he  might  have  given  the 
money  to  Bilge,  or  Bilge  might  have  taken  it  when 
he  fell  asleep,  for  Ma  could  remember  now  that  he 
did  fall  asleep  on  Miss  Hortense's  shoulder.  Ac- 
cordingly he  crawled,  surprised  to  discover  with 
what  pain  his  limbs  responded  to  his  will,  to  the 
side  of  Bilge,  felt  him  over  and  examined  those  few 
pockets  which  the  navy  regulations  provide  for  the 
garments  of  a  sailor.  Like  his  own,  those  pockets 
were  empty. 

"  Bilge !  "  he  shouted,  shaking  the  slumberer  vio- 
lently. "Wake  up!  We're  robbed!  Do  you-all 
get  that?     Robbed!" 

He  shouted  the  words  directly  into  the  flaring, 
freckled  ear  of  the  machinist's  mate,  and  the  latter 
sat  up  abruptly,  staring  at  Ma  with  bloodshot 
eyes. 

"  You  sucker !  "  he  accused,  when  the  truth  had 
dawned  on  him.  "  You  sucker !  "  and  he  seized  Ma 
by  the  shoulders  and  shook  him  violently. 

Ma,  in  a  smother  of  resentment,  shook  him  in 
return,  and  thus  the  two  mates  shook  each  other 
into  wakefulness  and  stood  gloomily  scowling  at 
themselves  and  the  blank  walls  about  them. 

"  Our  money !  Our  money's  gone,  and  we  haven't 
hardly  seen  London  at  all  yet,"  murmured  Bilge 
with  a  ghastly  groan. 

"  Our  leave  ain't  but  just  begun,"  recalled  Ma 
sadly. 

Black  confusion  and  the  shame  of  utter  humilia- 
tion settled  in  a  dense  cloud  upon  two  proud  natures. 


280        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

For  once  neither  had  the  spirit  left  to  seek  to 
incriminate  the  other. 

"It's  lucky  our  return  tickets  were  at  the  hotel. 
We  been  sheared  like  a  couple  of  lambs,"  confessed 
Bilge. 

"  The  old  —  old  army  game !  "  mumbled  Ma,  and 
was  silent,  kicking  disconsolately  at  the  pavement 
with  his  toe. 

Some  reflective,  remorseful  minutes  passed. 
Each  thought  of  the  same  thing.  Neither  mentioned 
it. 

"  Where  are  we?  "  demanded  Bilge  presently,  and 
sniffed  with  a  fastidious  nose  the  malodorous 
zephyrs  wafted  in  from  the  dank,  cobble-stoned 
court  that  appeared  just  beyond  them.  "  Smells 
like  a  tripe-factory,"  he  decided  in  deep  disgust. 

"  The  question  is,  where  was  we?  "  retorted  Ma 
sententiously. 

"  In  the  siren's  den,"  murmured  Bilge,  in  tones  of 
self-reproach.  "  We  fell  for  them,  and  they  let  us 
lay." 

"  Yeh !  "  admitted  Ma.  "  They  let  us  lay  out  here 
on  the  cobbles  all  night." 

"  But  they  trimmed  us  proper,  and  they  trimmed 
us  first,"  recalled  Bilge  mournfully. 

"  She  had  such  a  wonderful  look  in  her  eye," 
reflected  Ma,  with  a  sorrowful  shake  of  the  head. 

"  Katie's  touch  was  so  gentle,"  sighed  Bilge. 

"  So  gentle  I  don't  suppose  you  even  felt  it  when 
she  pinched  your  last  ten-shillin'  note,"  opined  Ma 
sarcastically.  "  We  ain't  got  nothing  left  but  our 
identification  tags.  It's  a  wonder  they  didn't  take 
them  for  souvenirs." 

"  The    girls   never    robbed    us,"    declared    Bilge 


London  Leave  281 

loyally.  "  They  were  just  nice  little  girls  like  they 
pretended  to  be.  The  Hooker,  hook  him,  probably 
doped  them  too.  Ma,"  and  Bilge  clutched  his 
friend  tightly  by  the  shoulders,  "  we've  got  to  find 
where  those  girls  are  and  rescue  them.  We've  got 
to  rescue  'em  if  it  takes  our  whole  leave  time  to 
do  it." 

Ma  was  thoughtful  for  a  moment,  thoughtful  and 
doubtful,  until  there  rose  before  his  mind  a  picture 
of  short,  blond  hair,  of  a  little  childish  figure  of  a 
woman,  with  blue,  full  eyes  and  a  wistful  light  in 
them  —  a  little  girl  whose  father  had  died  in  France ; 
then  doubt  flitted.  Resolution  came,  resolution  and 
the  framing  of  a  noble  purpose. 

"  You're  plumb  right,  Bilge,"  he  declared  heartily. 
"  We  got  to.     Now  the  first  start-off  —  " 

"  The  first  start-off,"  interrupted  Bilge,  "  is  to 
take  this  ten-shilling  note  I've  just  found  floating 
round  between  my  undershirt  and  me  —  explaining 
why  the  Hooker  missed  it.  The  first  start-off  is  to 
get  some  breakfast,  for  I  figure  we've  slept  here  on 
these  stones  right  through  the  night." 

"  Feels  like  I'd  slept  on  'em  a  thousand  years," 
grumbled  Ma,  rubbing  his  back. 

"  The  first  start-off,"  re-emphasized  Bilge,  "  is  to 
get  some  breakfast  and  a  shave  and  get  our- 
selves to  looking  like  enlisted  men  had  ought  to  look 
before  anybody  sees  us  masqueradin'  as  a  pair  of 
tramps." 

"  No,"  objected  Ma  stubbornly.  "  The  first  thing 
is  to  notice  just  where  we  are  and  dope  out  how  we 
got  to  here  from  where  we  was.  They  figure  on  us 
gettin'  up  and  kind  of  wandering  round  stupid  and 
groggy  till  we  get  lost  and  can't  tell  where  we  slept. 


282       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

That  Hooker  never  dragged  us  far  with  his  shrapnel 
legs,  you  know  that." 

"  Not  too  bad,  that  reasoning,"  admitted  Bilge, 
"  but  I'm  not  hardly  equal  to  anything  till  I  get 
some  ham  and  eggs  and  coffee  down  in  my  boiler 
room." 

"  You  held  on  watch  twelve  hours  in  that  Decem- 
ber storm  without  a  bite  to  eat." 

"  That  was  for  Uncle  Sam  —  for  duty's  sake," 
explained  Bilge,  stiffening. 

"  This  is  for  beauty's  sake,"  argued  Ma,  with 
sadness  and  a  smirk  combined.  "  If  a  man's  a  real 
man  there  isn't  nothing  can  make  him  endure  more 
than  putting  himself  out  for  a  lady  in  distress.  She 
had  the  nicest,  flaxiest  hair,  that  little  Hortense,  and 
the  innocentest  smile." 

"  Dog-gone  you,  Ma !  "  exclaimed  Bilge,  and  with 
resolution  forming  quickly  on  his  face,  turned  back 
along  the  alley  to  a  dark,  uncertain  stair. 

"  They  must  'a'  brought  us  down  from  some  place 
there,  don't  you  reckon  ?  "  suggested  Ma. 

"  I  guess  so,"  speculated  Bilge  and  groped  his 
way  to  the  head  of  the  stair,  where  he  stopped  and 
sniffed.  "Nope!  We're-  wrong,"  he  decided. 
"  The  smell's  different.  This  whole  kennel  is  filled 
with  the  smell  of  printing  ink  and  leather  —  pretty 
rotten  leather  too  —  something  like  that.  There 
wasn't  nothing  of  the  sort  in  that  other  house.  It 
was  kind  of  sweet-smelling,  if  you  can  imagine  that 
of  one  of  these  rabbit  hutches." 

"  It  would  be  sort  of  cute  of  that  guy  if  he  carried 
us  down-stairs  and  across  the  court  and  planted  us 
in  this  alley  so  we'd  think  we  come  from  up  here," 
suggested  Ma. 


London  Leave  283 

"  That's  so,"  concluded  Bilge.  "If  it  wasn't  for 
our  heads  being  muddled,  we'd  'a'  thought  of  that 
before." 

They  retraced  their  steps,  inspected  the  court, 
which  appeared  to  be  in  the  center  of  a  block  and 
served  as  a  delivering  yard  into  which  trucks,  carts 
and  drays,  horse-driven  or  motor-impelled,  came  and 
went  continuously,  giving  or  receiving  various 
smelly  sorts  of  traffic  for  several  small  manufac- 
turing establishments  abutting  on  one  side,  while 
the  other  side  was  given  over  to  lodging  houses  of 
the  cheaper  sort. 

"  It  looks  sort  of  hopeless,"  commented  Ma. 

"  We've  got  to  do  a  little  deducin',"  decided 
Bilge.  "  I  deduce  first  off  that  it  isn't  any  one  of 
these  factory  houses  on  this  side.  I  deduce  next 
off  that  it  isn't  any  of  the  houses  that  open  directly 
on  this  court,  because  no  room  in  'em  could  have 
smelled  sweet.  I  deduce  number  three  that  these 
two  tunnels  here  at  each  corner  run  through  to 
another  court  and  some  more  houses,  and  that  it's 
one  of  those  houses  where  we  were  trimmed." 

"  Proceedin'  by  empirical  —  " 

Bilge  turned  quickly  and  looked  at  Ma  in  a 
startled  way. 

"  I  read  a  book  once  about  how  Edison  invented," 
explained  Ma  sheepishly. 

"  Yes,"  affirmed  Bilge,  "  proceeding  empirically, 
I'm  going  to  try  one  of  those  tunnels,  and  if  it  isn't 
the  right  one,  I'm  going  to  try  the  other." 

The  two  ventured  off  along  one  of  them.  Later 
they  tried  the  other.  Eventually,  having  proceeded 
empirically  for  the  matter  of  an  hour,  empiricism  on 
an  empty  stomach  being  but  a  slow  and  tedious  sci- 


284       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

entific  method,  Bilge  and  Ma,  after  stumbling  over 
garbage  heaps,  being  spit  at  by  cats,  stared  at  by 
frowsy  servant  girls,  bit  at  by  dogs,  and  scowled  and 
growled  at  by  various  and  sundry  male  human  beings 
of  unsavory  appearance,  found  themselves  com- 
pletely baffled.  But  still  they  persevered,  hour  after 
hour,  until  they  had,  it  seemed,  prowled  through 
every  passage  of  every  lodging  house  and  through 
every  darksome  alley,  court  and  cavern  of  the  entire 
district. 

"  Think  of  those  girls !  "  Ma  would  say,  when 
Bilge  showed  signs  of  giving  up. 

"  D'you  know,"  confessed  Bilge  at  length,  "  I 
begin  somehow  to  doubt  those  girls,  now  that  I  get 
more  daylight  into  my  brain." 

"  You  ought  to  have  considerable  daylight  in  it, 
if  you're  ever  going  to  get  it  in,  seeing  that  it's  two 
o'clock  by  that  church  steeple  yonder." 

"  Let's  eat,"  proposed  Bilge.  "  By  jinks,  Ma,  I 
must  eat." 

They  spied  out  a  cheap-looking  hole-in-the-wall 
and  ate  sparingly,  Fletcherizing  their  food  and 
Hooverizing  their  money.  They  bore  themselves 
with  outward  composure  but  inwardly  were  greatly 
subdued  and  not  at  all  as  the  proud  and  self-satisfied 
young  men  who  yesterday  morning  had  registered 
at  the  Hotel  Piccadilly. 

"  Let's  get  a  shave,"  proposed  Ma. 

They  got  a  shave  and  seized  the  facilities  of  the 
shop  to  get  themselves  brushed  and  shined  into 
something  like  their  pristine  glory  of  personal  ap- 
pearance. This  luxury  would  have  reduced  their 
ten  shillings  to  two,  but  that  providentially  Ma  also 
had  discovered  a  ten-shilling  note  floating  round  in 


London  Leave  285 

the  region  beneath  his  shirt  and  tickling  him  as  the 
other  had  tickled  Bilge. 

"  Do  you  know,  Ma,"  said  Bilge,  contemplating 
this  flimsy  white  note  with  its  printing  in  red  upon 
it,  "  this  sort  of  proves  to  me  that  those  girls  were 
on  the  square.  They  planted  these  notes  on  us  after 
the  other  fellow  robbed  us,  just  so's  we  wouldn't  be 
completely  broke.     We've  got  to  —  " 

"There!  Hi!  There  he  is.  Stop,  thief!  Stop, 
you  durned  wallet-pincher !  " 

Ma,  who  had  delivered  himself  of  this  burst  of 
oratory,  was  off  excitedly  across  the  street,  tear- 
ing his  way  through  the  weaving  crowd  and  making 
for  a  large  man  with  a  bowler  hat  who  dodged  as 
rapidly  onward  as  the  massing,  eddying  human 
being  in  the  street  would  permit. 

Bilge  followed  Ma,  not  joining  in  the  outcry, 
but  making  no  doubt  as  to  its  meaning  and 
eventually  recognizing  the  bowler  hat  also.  Ma 
gained  its  immediate  vicinity  first  and  over  the 
heads  of  the  crowd  struck  out  impatiently  with 
his  long  hand  straight  down  upon  the  hat,  which 
immediately  went  crushing  down  over  the  ears 
and  eyes  of  the  wearer,  leaving  him  temporarily 
blindfolded  and  setting  up  a  tremendous  clamor  in 
the  crowd. 

"  Dope  me,  will  you,  and  rob  me?  "  exulted  Ma, 
seizing  the  blinded  man  by  the  wrist  and  looking 
about  for  a  policeman. 

"  Got  you,  my  bird,  all  right !  "  gloated  Bilge, 
seizing  the  other  wrist,  but  instantly  something  mis- 
gave him  as  he  noted  the  texture  of  the  coatsleeve 
and  the  softness  of  the  hand  he  gripped. 

"  Wot's  up,  Yanks  ?  "  demanded  one  of  a  pair  of 


286       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

typical  London  Bobbies,  whose  appearance  was  so 
instant  as  to  seem  providential. 

"  This  bloke  doped  us  and  robbed  us  of  fifty-two 
pounds,"  declared  Ma  indignantly.  Bilge,  however, 
in  that  moment  of  doubt  and  irresolution  which  had 
come  to  him,  had  permitted  the  prisoner  to  wrench 
his  hand  free.  Immediately  he  tore  off  the  bowler 
with  an  indignant  jerk,  and  both  Bilge  and  Ma  fell 
back  in  consternation  as  they  observed  that  their 
captive  was  no  more  the  Hooker  than  he  was  the 
Premier  of  England.  He  was  a  strong,  irate,  florid 
young  man,  wearing  upon  his  coat  lapel  the  bronze 
badge  of  the  Honorable  Constabulary  of  the  City  of 
London.  The  faces  of  the  Bobbies  hardened  in- 
stantly. 

"  We-all  have  made  a  mistake,"  explained  Ma, 
very  much  abashed.  "  We-all  beg  your  humble  par- 
don, sir.  We  just  seen  your  back,  sir,  and  we  took 
you  for  a  man  that  robbed  us  last  night  of  fifty 
pounds." 

"  Robbed  you?  "  expostulated  the  wrathful  young 
man.  "  Robbed  you  ?  Do  you  think  I  look  like  a 
robber?" 

"  We  thought  you  did,  but  you  don't,"  stammered 
Bilge.  "We  apologize,  sir;  but  we've  been  robbed 
—  right  here  in  London  too,  that  my  mate  and  me 
have  been  fighting  for  for  more  than  a  year  on  a  de- 
stroyer, and  I  guess  we  were  kind  of  sore  and  hasty, 
sir.     I  hope  you'll  excuse  us." 

"  We  haven't  hurt  you  none,  I  reckon,"  urged 
Ma,  "  except  your  hat,  and  we'll  git  you  a  new  one." 

It  may  have  been  the  signs  of  deep  contrition  on 
the  young  men's  faces,  it  may  have  been  the  uniform 
they  wore  or  the  kind  of  embarrassed  dignity  with 


London  Leave  287 

which  they  bore  themselves,  or  that  remark  of 
Bilge's  about  fighting  for  London  on  a  destroyer,  or 
perhaps  it  was  that  the  young  man  whom  they  had 
chosen  for  assault  and  battery  was  one  of  the  most 
notoriously  good-natured  young  fellows  in  London. 
Anyway,  the  signs  of  wrath  upon  his  face  vanished 
speedily,  giving  way  to  a  curious  kind  of  personal 
interest  in  the  cause  of  the  young  sailors  themselves. 
"  Robbed,  do  you  mean  to  say  ?  Robbed !  Why, 
that  is  an  outrage." 

"  Yes,  sir/'  affirmed  Ma  solemnly.  "  We  been 
robbed  all  right,  mister." 

"  It  is  an  outrage,"  he  declared  again.  "  Officers, 
look  into  it.  I  accept  these  young  men's  apologies. 
Their  attack  upon  me  was  neither  pleasant  nor  com- 
plimentary, but  it  did  no  serious  harm.  No  doubt  it 
will  be  a  warning  to  them  against  overhaste  in 
future.  I  have  heard  that  you  American  soldiers 
and  sailors  are  rash,"  he  added,  by  way  of  a  parting 
shot,  and  hastily  escaped  from  the  undesirable  pub- 
licity he  was  enjoying,  contemplating  his  hat  rue- 
fully and  looking  about  for  a  shop  where  he  might 
have  it  replaced. 

The  faces  of  Ma  and  Bilge  actually  sagged  for  a 
moment  with  amazement  at  the  ease  with  which  they 
had  been  let  out  of  a  most  embarrassing  situation; 
but  the  stern-featured  Bobbies  still  remained  with 
them  as  indicating  that  they  were  not  yet  out  of  the 
situation  after  all. 

"  Come  away  out  of  here !  "  the  helmeted  ones 
directed,  as  wishing  themselves  to  escape  the  crowd 
while  they  deliberated ;  or  perhaps  they  wished  seclu- 
sion in  which  to  hear  the  story  of  the  robbery, 
although  Bilge  and  Ma  were  instinctively  resolved 


288       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

not  to  tell  that  story,  since  each  felt  that  it  reflected 
too  little  credit  on  their  own  astuteness. 

However,  the  crowd  buzzed  along  behind, 
unpleasantly  curious  at  the  spectacle  of  Yankee 
sailors  escorted  by  London  Bobbies.  As  usual,  too, 
half  the  men  in  the  crowd  were  in  uniform,  and  they 
recognized  in  these  American  sailors  not  only  fight- 
ing kindred  but  folk  to  whom  in  a  peculiar  sense 
hospitality  and  protection  was  due. 

"Wot's  it  all  about,  myte,"  demanded  a  huge 
British  jack-tar,  who  immediately  ranged  himself 
protectingly  beside  Ma,  unceremoniously  urging  the 
Bobby  off  who  had  been  there. 

At  the  same  moment  a  jaunty  Australian,  with 
wide  rolling  hat  and  his  red  sunburned  face,  made 
overtures  to  Bilge  upon  the  other  side,  crowding  in 
between  him  and  his  escorting  policeman  and  desir- 
ing to  know  of  the  said  policeman  what  idea  was 
gnawing  at  his  vitals.  An  instant  later  two  Lan- 
cashire Tommies  in  khaki  fell  in  behind  as  if  to 
afford  protection  from  the  rear,  while  from  up  the 
street  three  coal-black  Barbadians,  also  in  the  khaki 
uniform  of  the  British  Tommy  and  carrying  swag- 
ger sticks,  came  marching  smartly  down.  They 
paused,  viewed  the  situation  over,  noted  the  signs 
of  distinguished  comrades  in  distress,  and  decided 
that  it  called  for  their  intervention  also.  Snappily 
this  trio  of  ebony-hued  military  graces  wheeled  in 
at  the  head  of  the  procession  and  led  off  up  the 
Strand,  with  curious  hundreds  following. 

Thus  were  Bilge  and  Ma  encompassed  and  en- 
folded, front,  flank  and  rear,  though  such  a  guard 
of  honor,  however  well  meant,  only  made  them  ten 
times  as  conspicuous  as  before,  conspicuity  being 


London  Leave  269 

the  particular  thing  which  they  twain  at  this  moment 
sought  to  avoid. 

"  Ain't  this  shameful  ?  "  muttered  Ma.  "  I  know 
that  somewhere  there's  a  moving-picture  man  mak- 
ing a  fillum  of  this  to  take  back  to  the  Naval  Club. 
We're  disgraced,  we're  robbed,  and  we  haven't  seen 
London  yet  —  not  half  of  it." 

"  Darned  near  all  of  London  is  seeing  us,  that's 
one  consolation,"  perspired  Bilge.     "  It's  awful." 

"  I  can  stand  it  all  but  these  niggers,"  confessed 
Ma.  "If  they  ever  heard  of  it  in  Waco,  me  taking 
a  nigger's  wind  like  this,  and  kind  of  proud  of  it 
too !    Gee,  it's  a  great  war !  " 

"  The  question  is,  what  are  we  going  to  do  ?  " 
groaned  Bilge.  "  Are  we  under  arrest  or  what  ? 
We're  ruined.  Supposing  we  were  to  meet  the 
admiral  now.  If  we  had  only  gone  to  the  Y-hut 
like  I  wanted  to." 

"  Like  you  wanted  to,  you  dog-goned  streak  of 
yellow !  "  exploded  Ma  wrath  fully. 

But  just  then  another  helmeted  figure  hove  in 
sight  to  relieve  the  perplexity  which  obviously  pos- 
sessed the  first  two  Bobbies  as  to  whether  they 
should  hold  or  set  free  this  pair  of  rashly  unfor- 
tunate young  men.  Under  this  third  helmet  ap- 
peared, rather  surprisingly,  the  face  of  a  woman. 
The  garments  were  those  of  a  woman  also,  though 
the  color  was  dark  blue  and  the  cut  military,  while 
long  black  military  boots  completed  the  costume  and 
helped  out  the  illusion  of  the  helmet. 

"A  woman  cop!"  ejaculated  Bilge. 

"  I've  read  about  'em,"  remembered  Ma. 

The  Bobbies  engaged  in  whispered  consultation 
with  the  representative  of  the  several  thousand  vol- 


290       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

unteer  policewomen  of  the  city  of  London  and 
environs  who  have  wrought  so  tactfully  and  effec- 
tively to  give  police  protection  to  the  military  stran- 
gers within  the  gates  of  that  city.  The  policewoman 
nodded  at  the  story,  turned  shrewd,  kindly  eyes  upon 
the  boys,  and  said :  "  Very  well,  you  may  come  with 
me  now." 

The  police  fell  away,  the  guard  of  honor  fell 
away,  the  very  crowd  seemed  to  fall  away  at  this 
hint  of  a  woman's  wish  as  the  lady,  coming  between 
Bilge  and  Ma,  thrust  a  hand  through  an  arm  of 
each  quite  comfortably.  To  Ma  this  registered  like 
ignominy  subjoined  below  ignominy.  To  Bilge  it 
was  but  another  phase  in  what  was  becoming  a  wild 
and  fantastic  nightmare.  Each  looked  at  each  over 
the  rim  of  the  policewoman's  helmet,  and  neither 
would  any  more  have  resisted  her  wish  than  any 
other  of  the  thousands  of  enlisted  men  who  have 
proven  so  amenable  to  the  handling  of  the  police- 
women in  moods  where  the  ordinary  male  creature 
of  the  patent-leather  helmet  and  chin-strap  could 
have  provoked  nothing  but  a  fight. 

"  Hit's  all  right,  Buddy,"  whispered  the  blackest 
Barbadian  in  Ma's  ear. 

"Buddy!"  exploded  Ma. 

"  She'll  take  you  to  Eagle  Hut,"  beamed  the  black 
man. 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  to  the  Y-hut  like  this,"  pro- 
tested Bilge  under  his  breath  to  Ma.  "  We  —  we're 
not  arrested,  are  we  ?  "  he  inquired  when  the  prog- 
ress of  a  block  had  fairly  put  the  acutest  part  of  their 
experience  behind  them. 

"  Arrested  ?  You  dear  fellows !  Certainly  not," 
and  the  policewoman  laughed  cheerily.     "  I'm  only 


London  Leave  291 

using  the  cloak  of  my  office  and  sex  to  lead  you  out 
of  an  embarrassing  situation." 

"  Thank  you,  Ma'am,  very  much,"  murmured  Ma. 

Bilge  also  murmured. 

"  See !    There  it  is,  right  across  the  way." 

The  policewoman  tactfully  dropped  back  and  left 
the  two  boys  standing  on  the  curb,  looking  across  to 
the  low  hut  which  covered  some  thousands  of  square 
feet  of  floor  space  on  one  of  the  most  treasured 
spots  in  London. 

Groups  of  enlisted  men  in  the  uniforms  of  the 
land  and  sea  forces  of  Great  Britain  and  the  United 
States  appeared  sitting  before  the  door,  reading 
or  chatting  or  smoking.  Other  groups  came  and 
went,  coming  eagerly,  going  contentedly.  The 
strumming  of  a  piano  floated  out  to  them,  punctured 
by  the  crack  of  billiard  balls. 

"  We  don't  have  to  go  in,"  exclaimed  Bilge,  look- 
ing about  him  in  surprise.  "  The  lady  cop  has 
gone." 

"  I  sort  of  want  to,"  said  Ma. 

"  Don't  care  if  I  do,  either,"  decided  Bilge. 

The  two  sailors  crossed  the  open  space  and  en- 
tered, not  knowing  that  the  lady  policeman,  from 
the  shadow  of  a  doorway,  watched  their  movements 
with  a  knowing  smile.  They  paused  and  looked 
about  them  at  a  long  room,  equipped  as  a  sort  of 
lobby,  with  chairs,  tables  and  counters,  soldiers  and 
sailors  sitting  about  singly  or  in  groups,  or  lining 
up  before  a  canteen  window.  This  first  room 
opened  on  other  rooms  and  alcoves,  some  with  read- 
ing tables,  lounges  and  games,  and  one  of  them  with 
rows  and  rows  of  dining  tables. 

There  was  an  atmosphere  of  the  good  old  U.  S.  A. 


292        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

about  the  place.  Neither  man  could  have  told  in 
what  it  consisted,  yet  each  sensed  the  smell  and  the 
flavor  of  back  home  about  the  place.  Something 
like  a  lump  came  up  in  Bilge's  throat.  They  had 
but  barely  stepped  out  of  London  with  its  thousands 
of  years  of  history  behind  it,  with  its  centuried 
buildings  and  streets  and  institutions ;  and  here  they 
stood  in  a  new  pine  shack  that  was  redolent  of  the 
new  world  entirely. 

"  Seems  as  if  we  just  stepped  back  across  the 
pond,"  remarked  Bilge,  with  a  funny  kind  of  a 
jump  in  his  voice. 

"  Yey !  "  admitted  Ma,  speaking  fiercely  to  get 
past  a  hard  spot  that  was  forming  in  his  own  throat. 

A  man  in  the  Y  uniform  recognized  them  as 
strangers  and  advanced  with  open  hand  and  smiling 
face. 

"  Anything  in  particular  I  can  do  for  you?  " 

"  Have  you  got  the  Waco  papers  ?  "  inquired  Ma, 
demanding  the  most  impossible  and  the  most  desir- 
able thing  he  could  recall  upon  the  spur  of  the 
moment. 

"  Waco  ?  I'm  afraid  not,"  smiled  the  man,  "  but 
—  Dallas !  How  would  that  suit  you  ?  There  was 
a  man  round  here  with  a  Dallas  paper  not  half  an 
hour  ago." 

Leaving  them  standing,  the  amiable  gentleman 
with  the  red  triangle  on  his  collar  departed  to  return 
presently,  waving  triumphantly  a  somewhat  rumpled 
paper. 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  gasped  Ma,  grateful  as  a  dog. 
"  The  Dallas  News!  What  do  you  think  of  that?  " 
And  he  sank  into  the  nearest  chair. 

"  The  cotton  looks  fine,  but  it  seems  like  it's  going 


London  Leave  293 

to  be  dry  again  out  in  West  Texas,"  he  announced, 
after  an  absorbed  quarter  of  an  hour. 

"  The  Dodgers  are  dodging  another  pennant," 
complained  Bilge  in  disgust,  flinging  down  his  Daily 
Eagle.  "  Let's  go  and  eat.  It's  supper  time.  We 
got  a  few  shillings  left,  and  beans  never  smelt  so 
good  to  me  in  all  my  life." 

"If  my  ol'  nose  don't  deceive  me,  I  smell  hot- 
cakes,"  declared  Ma.  "  Let's  project  out  to  the 
dinin'  room." 

"  Hot-cakes !  That's  German  propaganda  to  talk 
of  hot-cakes  to  a  Yankee  sailor,"  reproved  Bilge. 

But  there  actually  were  hot-cakes,  and  they  two 
ricocheted  from  beans  to  hot-cakes  and  back  again 
until  the  ghost  of  Mr.  Hoover  stood  before  them. 

"  The  best  meal  I've  ate  in  London,"  decided  Ma, 
with  a  sigh. 

"  I  wish  we  had  'a'  found  this  place  sooner," 
murmured  Bilge. 

"  Better  go  now  and  make  sure  of  a  bed,  hadn't 
we,  while  we've  got  the  price  ?"  suggested  the  humble 
Ma. 

They  did  this  and  had  occasion  to  rejoice  in  their 
forethought  when  a  few  minutes  later  they  saw  a 
sign  go  up,  announcing  that  all  beds  for  the  night 
were  taken. 

"  Appears  like  there's  something  doing  in  here," 
remarked  Ma,  pointing  his  steps  toward  a  rotunda- 
like place  packed  with  chairs  and  equipped  with  a 
stage. 

"  Elsie  Janis !  What  do  you  know  about  that  ?  " 
gasped  Bilge,  when  he  read  the  announcement  on 
the  bulletin  board.  "  No  moving  picture  either. 
Her!" 


294        The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

And  it  was  she,  the  charming,  sparkling,  radiant, 
gallant  Elsie  herself,  fresh  from  a  long  tour  of 
entertaining  the  soldiers  of  Uncle  Sam  in  France. 
And  here  she  entertained  again,  queening  it  regally 
over  her  packed  circle  of  admirers,  convulsing  them 
with  laughter  at  her  stories  and  her  imitations,  and 
sweeping  their  heart-strings  with  her  songs,  but 
always  to  touch  them  at  last  on  the  universal  funny- 
bone  once  more. 

Panting  with  her  effort,  beaming  good  nature  and 
happiness  at  the  applause  her  artistry  had  won,  she 
responded  to  call  after  call  and  finally  was  tempted 
into  the  aisle  to  be  included  in  a  flashlight  photo- 
graph of  the  audience.  Here  they  posed  her  on  a 
chair  so  close  to  Bilge  that  her  gleaming,  radiant 
personality  overflowed  and  gilded  his  red  hair  and 
florid  cheeks  like  a  sunburst.  For  an  instant  he  was 
dazed  and  awed.  Then  a  wave  of  unaccountable 
audacity  surged  over  him. 

"  Here,  Miss  Janis !  "  he  said,  and  offered  his  flat 
round  hat  with  the  U.  S.  S.  Judson  lettered  on  the 
front  of  it.  The  actress  caught  the  idea  instantly, 
flipped  the  cap  on  her  head,  giving  it  a  jaunty  list 
to  starboard,  and  glanced  over  at  Bilge  with  roguish, 
laughing  eyes,  whereat  the  machinist's  mate  was 
thrilled  beyond  all  thrills  he  had  ever  experienced, 
while  Ma  was  inspired  to  audacity  upon  his  own 
part  and  whipped  off  his  sailor  neckerchief  to  pass 
it  up  also,  so  that  the  amiable  Elsie  was  photo- 
graphed in  Bilge's  flat  hat  and  with  Ma's  black  silk 
neckerchief  flowing  round  her  neck  and  fluttering 
on  her  slender,  palpitating  bosom. 

The  effect  of  this  breezy  incident  was  to  whisk 
the  last  ash  of  humiliation  from  their  but  recently 


London  Leave  295 

perturbed  brows  and  leave  them  that  night  the  two 
happiest  and  proudest  sailors  in  London.  And  more 
was  coming,  though  the  two  neither  recognized  nor 
expected  it,  and  were  making  their  way  out  of  the 
hall  with  the  conscience  of,  the  Texan  nagging  at 
him  somewhat  as  follows : 

"  Bilge !  We  forgot  about  them  girls.  We 
haven't  rescued  'em  yet.  We  got  to  go  right  out 
and  do  it." 

"  I  tell  you  I'm  getting  more  and  more  doubtful 
about  those  girls,"  meditated  Bilge.  "  I  think  we 
were  just  a  couple  of  —  " 

"  You  didn't  come  out  to  tea,"  complained  a  re- 
proachful voice  behind  them,  reproachful  and  yet 
somehow  cheery  and  inspiring. 

Bilge  and  Ma  turned  quickly  to  greet  the  Countess 
of  Bloomfield.  Her  dress  was  not  brown  this  time 
to  match  her  eyes,  but  the  eyes  themselves  were  still 
dark  and  vivacious,  and  she  looked  altogether  as 
bewitching  as  ever.     Both  boys  flushed  deeply. 

"  We  —  we  —  "  stammered  Bilge. 

11  We  got  tangled  up  where  we  couldn't,  Ma'am," 
explained  Ma. 

"  Oh,  no  matter,"  said  the  lady  quickly,  as  she 
noted  their  embarrassment.  "  We  did  miss  you, 
though.  However,  I  am  glad  you  took  my  advice 
and  found  Eagle  Hut.  You're  looking  very  nicely, 
too.  I  have  charge  of  the  nightly  programmes  here 
half  of  every  month.  You  seemed  to  be  enjoying 
the  one  to-night." 

'  You  saw  us  ?  "  inquired  Bilge  eagerly. 

"  And  I  saw  what  your  hat  and  neckerchief  were 
doing,"  laughed  the  Countess.  "  I  wasn't  a  bit  sur- 
prised at  your  effrontery  either.     Arthur!     Here, 


296       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

Arthur ! "  and  she  beckoned  a  heavy-shouldered 
young  man  toward  her.  "  I  want  you  to  see  these 
two  fine  young  sailor  chaps  I  met  on  the  train." 

A  very  amiable  young  man  sallied  up,  extended  a 
hand,  halted,  opened  his  eyes  widely,  exclaimed, 
"  Oh,  by  jove ! "  and  backed  off  to  adjust  his  eye- 
glass. 

"  Fan  me,  Ma !  "  murmured  Bilge.     "  Fan  me !  " 

"  The  very  chaps !  "  declared  the  young  man, 
turning  and  looking  at  his  sister  with  comic  serious- 
ness, while  Bilge  and  Ma  curled  and  crinkled  round 
the  edges  in  the  searing  heat  of  fresh  confusion. 
"  These  are  the  young  hoodlums  I  told  you  about, 
Mary,  that  wanted  to  arrest  me  for  a  common,  vul- 
gar highwayman.  Bally  rotten  of  them,  don't  you 
think  ?  "  And  Brother  Arthur  sagged  at  the  knees 
while  he  went  off  into  a  roar  of  laughter.  For  a 
moment  the  eyes  of  the  Countess  sparkled  with 
mirth,  and  then  she  became  all  sympathy,  though 
Bilge  and  Ma  had  half  a  notion  it  was  mock 
sympathy. 

"  Robbed !  "  she  exclaimed  concernedly.  "  Do 
tell  me  about  it." 

The  Countess  drew  them  into  a  corner  and  bade 
them  sit  down  with  her.  Arthur  also  sat  down, 
but  listened  beamingly  and  not  sympathetically,  as 
if  being  robbed  were  a  jolly  lark;  and  when  Ma's 
innate  chivalry  broke  out  in  his  confessed  desire 
to  go  forth  even  yet  and  rescue  the  two  young 
girls,  Brother  Arthur  broke  out  again  in  hilarious 
guffaws  and  beat  upon  the  floor  with  his  cane  to 
relieve  his  spasm  of  pure  joy.  "  I  say !  "  he  groaned. 
"Oh,  I  say!" 

His  sister  looked  at  him  reprovingly,  but  to  the 


London  Leave  297 

boys  exclaimed  with  unveiled  irony :  "  Girls !  They 
must  have  been  grandmothers,  both  of  'em  —  in 
crime  at  least.  Don't  think  of  the  shameless  crea- 
tures again.  It  was  just  a  plot  to  rob  you  from  the 
first,  and  you  are  lucky  to  be  well  rid  of  them  at  a 
cost  of  fifty  pounds." 

Bilge  and  Ma  exchanged  glances.  This  was  their 
most  humiliating  moment,  and  they  could  not  escape 
the  feeling  that  a  part  at  least  of  the  fire  of  scorn 
in  the  battery  of  those  dark  eyes  was  for  their  own 
lamblike  innocence.  Yet  before  they  had  time  to 
feel  anything  like  a  personal  hurt,  the  Countess  had 
spoken  again,  addressing  herself  to  her  brother. 

"  Arthur!  "  she  exclaimed.  "  I  am  going  to  take 
these  boys  home  with  me,  just  to  show  them  how 
London  ought  to  feel  toward  them  —  how  London 
does  feel  toward  them.  They  are  in  danger  of 
losing  their  good  time  just  because  —  just  because 
they  have  been  treated  too  abominably." 

"  By  Jove,  do !  "  said  Brother  Arthur  emphat- 
ically. "  I'd  rather  like  some  Yankee  chaps  running 
over  the  house,  and  these'll  do  as  well  as  any.  In 
fact,  better;  I  rather  like  'em,  you  know." 

"  You  cert'ny  have  got  a  forgivin'  disposition, 
Mister  —  Mister  Arthur,"  said  Ma.  "  But  we-all 
couldn't  accept  your  invitation,  lady.  We're  kind 
of  sore  on  ourselves  for  getting  robbed  and  all  that." 

"  But  you  wouldn't  hurt  me,  would  you?  "  And 
the  brown  eyes  of  the  Countess  took  ruthless  advan- 
tage of  the  two  tender-hearted  sailors  by  looking  as 
solemn  and  pained  as  if  they  were  about  to  shed  a 
tear. 

11  No'm,  we  certainly  would  not,"  said  Bilge, 
speaking  up  quickly. 


298       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

Within  half  an  hour  Bilge  and  Ma  had  been  intro- 
duced to  the  husband  of  the  Countess  of  Bloom- 
field,  and  were  much  puzzled  in  computing  whether 
the  husband  of  a  countess  was  a  count  or  not, 
although  they  noticed  that  the  servants  called  him 
"  My  Lord,"  while  Arthur  hailed  him  baldly  as 
Bloomfield. 

The  two  mates  slept  that  night  in  a  giant  four- 
poster  bed  in  a  giant  room  hung  with  tapestries  and 
floored  with  rugs  an  inch  or  more  in  thickness. 
They  breakfasted  next  morning  in  this  same  room 
in  state.  Later  the  Countess  entertained  them  at 
tennis.  They  found  her  home  a  huge,  rambling 
place  with  grounds,  grounds,  grounds,  and  a  park 
and  wood  with  the  Thames  at  the  back  of  the  latter. 

The  place  abounded  in  children,  those  of  the 
Countess  and  some  that  seemed  to  be  borrowed  from 
the  wives  of  soldiers  at  the  front.  The  home  was 
also  a  haven  for  wounded  and  invalided  British  offi- 
cers, who  cropped  out  at  every  turn  all  over  the 
place.  Bilge  and  Ma  were  in  great  demand  for  the 
entertainment  of  the  children  and  for  the  enter- 
tainment of  these  officers,  and  were  themselves 
vastly  thrilled  by  having  white,  clean,  jolly  children 
clambering  over  them,  and  by  hearing  from  these 
gallant  men  epic  stories  of  the  fighting  front,  with 
little  modestly  told  hero-tales  of  how  this  Captain 
or  that  Major  earned  the  decoration  that  appeared 
so  proudly  upon  his  breast,  although  never  by  any 
persuasion  would  the  wearer  himself  tell  how  he 
got  it  or  listen  to  the  telling  by  another. 

But  Bilge  and  Ma  were  by  no  means  to  be  interned 
with  children  or  invalids.  Every  day  Brother 
Arthur  or  the  Countess  herself  took  them  out  on 


London  Leave  299 

sight-seeing  trips,  and  always  late  in  the  evening  they 
were  dropped  down  at  Eagle  Hut  for  dinner  and 
thrilling  hours  of  what  the  schoolmaster-sailor  had 
called  buzz-buzz  with  their  enlisted-men  allies  and 
comrades  from  every  zone  of  war.  And  after  they 
had  shot  a  game  of  pool  and  enjoyed  the  evening's 
entertainment,  there  was  Brother  Arthur  or  the 
Countess  to  take  them  home  again. 

"  Pretty  soft,  what !  "  Bilge  used  to  murmur. 

"  Yeh!  "  confessed  Ma.  "  You  was  right,  Bilge; 
London  was  glad  to  see  us  after  all." 

Each  day  was  a  month  in  length  and  put  farther 
and  farther  behind  them  the  memory  of  that  terrible 
chagrin  which  grouped  round  their  bitter  experiences 
of  the  second  day.  From  regretting  this  incident, 
they  came  gradually  to  look  upon  it  as  natural  and 
even  necessary.  Certainly  it  had  proved  the  open- 
ing doorway  into  their  present  blissful  state,  and 
though  the  knowledge  of  the  circumstances  punc- 
tured their  pride,  they  came  even  to  look  upon  this 
puncturing  as  a  blessing  in  disguise.  The  time  was 
possibly  coming  when  they  would  boast  of  it. 
Already  its  blackness  blended  and  lost  itself  in  a 
crowd  of  rose-hued  recollections,  and  when  Satur- 
day night  came  their  week  in  London  bulked  itself 
in  memory  as  one  long  and  glorious  triumph,  a  series 
of  actions  and  engagements  in  which  their  gallantry 
had  been  conspicuous. 

"  What  we  did  to  that  old  town !  "  chuckled  Bilge, 
as  he  composed  himself  for  slumber  in  a  corner  of 
their  third-class  compartment. 

"  Yeh!  What  we  did!  "  yawned  Ma,  with  a  feel- 
ing of  peace  and  content  toward  all  the  allied  world, 
Hooker  Bill,  even,  not  seriously  exempted  from  his 


300       The  Exploits  of  Bilge  and  Ma 

general  amnesty.  And  then,  in  the  honesty  of  his 
soul  he  added  : 

"  But  at  that,  I  don't  exactly  figure  that  we  got 
away  with  London  the  way  I  thought  we  was  goin' 
to." 

"  Neither  do  I,"  admitted  Bilge.  "  You  can't  get 
away  with  London.     It's  too  big." 


TTNTVT^RTTY  OF  CUJTWr' 


TA 


THIS  BOOK  IS^edBEIiOW 

"^r"r>F    2S    CENTS 

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DAY     AND    TO     *    • 
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500240 


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